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BETWEEN LOVE & OTRAS CHINGADERAS 

… is a collection of  prose, poems and short stories. The product of the past five years—from the green mountains of Chiapas, Mexico to the dusty streets of (Tabarre) Port-Au-Prince and the irreverence that the Spirit of God has planted in his heart—put into the limits of words. Love, just as the iconic Mexican word, chigadera, is versatile, creative, life giving. The life that emanates out of love makes you radically unapologetic, irrational as to the healing power that it brings. Hence, the binary of life is undomesticated love, tenderness in private and justice in the public realm.

… is a collection of  prose, poems and short stories. The product of the past five years—from the green mountains of Chiapas, Mexico to the dusty streets of (Tabarre) Port-Au-Prince and the irreverence that the Spirit of God has planted in his heart—put into the limits of words. Love, just as the iconic Mexican word, chigadera, is versatile, creative, life giving. The life that emanates out of love makes you radically unapologetic, irrational as to the healing power that it brings. Hence, the binary of life is undomesticated love, tenderness in private and justice in the public realm.

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SALVAVIDAS<br />

Hoy dormí bocabajo<br />

Y soñé que nos ahogábamos juntas.<br />

Era una tarde adversa<br />

Cuando me di cuenta de mis cadenas.<br />

Las comencé a sentir<br />

Quemar mis tobillos y muñecas.<br />

La mordaza ya había destrozado mis labios<br />

Y la resequedad quebranto mi lengua.<br />

Cómo respirar libres<br />

Si nos asfixia esta mísera desigualdad<br />

Y esta putrefacta ambición<br />

Que sale de las malnutridas costillas de nuestro pueblo.<br />

Y, ahí, nos ahogábamos.<br />

Al despertar, recordé también aquel beso que nos robamos.<br />

Más que un beso fue un “en ti confió”.<br />

En tus brazos el sentirme amada,<br />

Tu pena infantil me dijo:<br />

Que se batirían en duelo las ganas de tu calor<br />

Y la amistad que nos debemos.<br />

Para no desgastar el corazón<br />

Dejamos que el tiro de gracia lo diera la amistad.<br />

Entre el incienso,<br />

Los ladridos de los perros<br />

Y estos chingados zancudos<br />

Permito que el recuerdo de ese beso<br />

Sea mí salvavidas<br />

Mientras me a violenta esta torrente de Miseria<br />

Que nos quiere ahogar.

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