Covering Letter Makeup Artis

was 20, I I looked at the navel and wrote a poem, without thinking that there might be someone on the other side (XXVI)


26. Exorcizarte

survive the pressure of your head
old and blind as hunger grips,
you hanging just a particular image.
And me?
What am I to the end of every room?
Both my legs and deep way
are the gift that always returns
fearing me alone with the paralysis of my hands.

You and I, heirs to family deaths, begetting the Son
amamente we
and triumph over all borders,
which I adopted as empires. And when he

let us remember that all this time I've been hiding
the most childish of my secrets. ANA PÉREZ

Cañamares (20 YEAR)

anapmares@gmail.com