| Manuscript


With a pen camouflaged,
who lost a boss,
I wrote these four letters
to let them fly
as would the poet
that, escaping beyond,
escape the madness
breaks everything and goes
flying counter
to breathe.
Flying counter,
breathing freedom.


Tan solo sound flashes,
and kings
or aces,
break the deck today.

Poems of Manuel, my father, in his book “Herederos de Babel”.


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