We load the car with your grief and mine
Two suitcases and the guitar
Texts by Ximena Escobar de Nogales
We load the car with your grief and mine
Two suitcases and the guitar
A brie aux truffes set the disturbance in motion
Money, power, titles, aesthetics, social class, or eloquence, never impressed her
A dogbituary
It would be a voyage, she said
The destination: a more genuine, examined, less fragmented, version of myself
Debía tener 11 o 12 años, vivíamos en Cali. Era un domingo y necesitaba una cartulina para una tarea del colegio.
Where does the mind disappear to when bad news strikes us?
Crush lavender seeds in your fingers, and then, eyes closed, take a deep breath into your hands
You press your warm body onto me
I am still half asleep
My body too desires you, but not yet
Hoy vi a la viejita que llevo adentro
Determinada, atrevida se asomó sin escrúpulos
“We will witness the arrival of modernity,” my father said as we left the house.
When I’m by her side, I slip back into my 7-year old me
Melba became a pampered toddler; mothered by plenty, mothered by none
Sufrí de depresión por más de un año y me recuperé completamente. Estas son algunas de las cosas que hice que me ayudaron; tal vez algunas de ellas le sean útiles a otros, por eso las comparto:
I remember Cocofina of the world
Her back turned to the bedroom’s window
Eyes shut, chin up, taking deep breaths