holding on

I was holding on
when you let go of my hand.
I was holding on
and like a child lost in a crowd
I waited on the spot
for you to come back.

I was holding on.
They told me you had gone forever
and I should let you go
but sometimes I heard you
call my name
and I missed you more, again.

It wasn’t the first time I was afraid of loosing you,
but I never believed it would be like this:
one long silent question.
You had all the answers
and I couldn’t let you go.
I was holding on.


What would she say?
Where is she now?
Is she thinking of me
as I am thinking of her?
Maybe she calls my thoughts?
I hold on tight
to nothing.
To words.
I keep my silent suffering
safe inside so no one sees.
It discolours everything.
What would she say?


I saw you today.
Your profile as you turned
burned on my memory.
I so wanted her to be you.
I know you’re not here.
They weren’t your eyes
that looked past me as
I felt aware of panic
with the realization
that my vision wasn’t true,
but I saw you.



reflejo de la nieve en una ventana de la Biblioteca de la UNED “Escuelas Pías”


El Tango

un desplazamiento
lento, angular
con intención, dirección

el desamor
el desafile de las emociones
lo perdido
bailamos bailamos
bailamos hablamos
hablamos hablamos
con gestos y escritos
con silencio y lagrimas
con sueños y noches
sin sueño