A STRANGE COUNTRY

Under the blue sky of a strange country, I look for you in the depths of my insides in every woman that passes through this forest of eyes in every scent, smile, or place, I look for you.

In the end, with salt between my hands I know that I have lost you, this empty feeling skims my mind and your face crumbles making a quiet sound like a moan.

I’ll learn to stop thinking about your long hair with its peach aroma and where the afternoon rests on your face.

Love is now an orphan walking alone through the streets.

CHARY GUMETA (CHIAPAS, MÉXICO)