I pressed the shutter release to capture the personality of the cacti: their funny shape always gives me the impression that they are little more than plants. But when I edited the photo, it was the tree towering behind them like a ghost that caught my eye.
the sea is noisy but from another time here it is enlarging the space of my thoughts turned upside down,
here it is, soothing, organising them according to their individual importance they will ground in the dying waves with only a few words left, but ordered in rattling syllables.
we would write history from the rock itself to save space too many seeds planted in the fat of the heart we would see it coming, the future with blurred eyes: No smoking no crying
but the wind was gentle
hardly a wind
maybe a breeze
that tamed the sun
behind my wings