Poetry books
Essay
Continuity
to erase or convert yourself
into music or death
you have to exist, to be something,
stand on your own feet in the world,
share the
multiple stature
of the mystery.
in humanity’s oblivion
there’s a symphony
that’s made up of every death.
they hear it without hearing it
those that live on.
(From Para lo que no existe, 1999)

