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That night I spun the sunwayllu [1]that I once brought from Lima.

Its sound jumped swiftly over the rocks

from one to the next without even staggering.

I approached myself and softly,

in the middle of the breeze, sent the message:

—tell him that I love him, that in this silence I see his smile,

that I didn't have to travel to the wall of Cuzco to see

the stones burn because they were already burning inside my skin.


I begged him to tell him I didn't know why,

neither what for, but that’s the way love is,

it taught me the words that

babble in the silence of a rainy night

between his legs and his slow beating heart.

The things we say when we keep quiet.


[1] Sumbayllu: Magic spinning top use by some quechua indigenous.  It has the ability of sending messages from one place to another.



Chay tutan hayk’aqcha Limamanta  sunwayllu apamusqayta muyuchirani.

P’itaylla rumikunaq hawanman p’itarparin

Hukmanta kaymanta mana kuyukachaspalla.

Achhuyaykuni llanp’ulla

Iphu paraq chawpinpi willakuyta aparachini:

— munakusqayta ñiy, upallaypi asiyniyta riqsikuni

Qusqupi pirqakamaraqmi mana wiyaharaniñachu

Rumikuna kanakuq qhawaq, qaraypipuniya rawraran. 

Rugayukuni mana yachasqayta ñikunanpaq

Mana imapaqpas, ichaqa chhaynayá munay karan.

Rimaykunapi kunan yachachiwasqan rimarimaran

Upallay para tutapi chakanpa chawpinpi qasillataq sunqun phatatatasaqtin.

Upallaspa ñisqanp

Hay días cuando entro al mar

En los que siento su mirar hacia la playa

buscando turistas o vendedores de frutas llamándome o siendo testigos.

Se agita y sus olas se tornan

más fuertes como queriendo alejarme.

Siempre he seguido hacia adentro.

A veces creo que el mar sabe de mi sueño y teme, algún día., yo decida

no regresar.

To Celeste

There are days when I just need to hear your voice to get up and walk,
others, however, it is essential
the sweetness of your eyes to illuminate the dawn.
There are days when you know that
You're in the next room, that's enough.
To light the fire and make cakes, say no to my tiredness.
Running is better if it is done in races next to you and walking if we do it on the way to get ramen.
Sometimes when you are not at home I go for a walk towards the red tree. So today it doesn't have leaves, I see it red because we discovered it together.


Its cherry color refreshes like your unsuspecting song when you paint.

The best, I confess, is the night:
that moment when you breathe next to me,
warm, soft and calm.
Those nights,
I sleep.

Aquí soy una extraña, 

desconozco las calles,los cruces.

El norte puede ser cualquiera,

incluso en tu cama, entre tus sábanas, 

enredada a tu cuerpo extravío el camino.




Hay días que hablan tanto, que pensar es imposible. Que se callen por un rato esos muertos de mi casa. Que se callen. Sus susurros como gritos, cuentan cosas y reclaman. Que se callen un minuto, que se callen, nada mas

Pinceladas de cielo se deslizan por la piel,
células desérticas reviven al contacto.
Mañana seré Gerbera somnifera,

Íncubos y súcubos se agitan en la jeringa,
las venas sedientas abren la boca para recibirlos
mientras poros abiertos buscan el hartazgo de la droga.


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