Confession
write because of my salvation, because that's all I have left, because it provides a sound, lights, the end of an act of love, the stage a few hours of desire. I write because with me that will never be, because under the sea from the table where the sheet support and I am still in the memory of a body, and prolong voices to lose track of time (days and years together, fastened a moment that leaves me with no defense). I write because when you open a word within the lighting meeting last kiss, because I pronounce my only truth alone: \u200b\u200bI refute that after my life. Write because there is an intimate cry to me since the beginning purified to make marks on paper, because I have things from the human breath and I can live that of which I was banished. I write to be young and nurture a radical hope to take what I have not and hear what they never told me. I write because it was never more beautiful deception. Javier
Lostaló, The rose bent , ed. Pun, p. 143.
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