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Carolina Chaves-O’Flynn -Colombia / USA-



Hay cartas que se escriben para no ser leídas. Catarsis ficcionales de humores sin exalto. Promesas de cobardes kamikazes, son luces de bengala infantiles. Humaredas de cohetes calcinados, de impulsos destemplados y caudales en reposo.

Al aire, las cuelgo y estoica hago tiempo mientras llegan a tus cantos. ¿Qué más da si las leen, entre tanto, escasos vientos? A solas, me figuro que inhalas sus palabras, que te llegan una a una cual alivios de suspiros.

Y que, entonces, mientras descifras el mensaje de sus líneas, uno tras otro, dolorosos,

tus respiros me requieren.


There are letters that are written never to be read Fictional catharsis of moods without exaltation. Promises of cowardly kamikazes, they are infantile fireworks. Smoke from burnt-out rockets of intemperate impulses and flowing streams at rest.

I hang them up in the air and stoically pass the time until they reach your songs. Who cares if a few light winds read them in the meantime?

All alone I imagine you inhaling their words, that reach you one by one like sighs of relief.

And that then, while you decipher the message of its lines, one after another, painfully, your breaths call for me.


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