He had everything until the word arrived.

During the vigil I knew the blue cry. I tried on all the masks, even that of the inner you. I expected my poverty would make me free and I denounced the ones who decided to inherit the deserts.

I pointed at them with a hand of salt and I deserted from the light.

The revolt of desire left us in the open.

We imitated the paleness of the moon and we cured the wound of insomnia with the tremulous window of a naked body.

Tears, fear, visions, and all that will be remembrance, forced me to flee from my face.

The earth summoned her witnesses and the trees were read by the wind. Fire interrogated our dreams anew.

The blood of dawn fell on my breast and I endured the cruel reign of the hours.

I don't know how much more I must lose for the poem to be revealed to me. I don't know which is the thirst I must whet to continue breathing. I evaded the routes proposed by the sun. I baptised everything that was lost. I inhabited the Age of the Shout. I set out on the way to my voice.

And now, when I close my eyes, someone returns to life.

Translation: 2008, Nicolás Suescún