A letter to Damon Albarn: 29 March 2012
A letter to Damon Albarn: Hi. How are you? I miss you. I miss you and I don’t even know you. I miss you because I saw you only once at your concert in Seattle. I cried the whole time.…
He comes to visit me at five in the morning: 26 de diciembre de 2014
He comes to visit me at five in the morning, he sits on the couch and I lay with my head in his lap, his fingers tracing lines, searching. We are silent, and it feels so nice to have someone…
Your pupils dilate: 22 de junio de 2013
To be alone is when music slices into your visceral perception. Your pupils dilate, your pupils are massive black suns burning my neurons and sucking my memories away, like lint pulled off clothes from the dryer, or stray hairs from…
Pigeons swim in trash piles in Montevideo: 10 de enero de 2014
A man walking down the street carries a birdcage with a green parrot inside. Pigeons swim in trash piles. I step outside, turn to close the door, and they hop and chirrup. Dirty papers rustle in the wind. Here there…