Miguel López fotografía

Nobody wanted to know anything about them. There they were. No home, no family. ALONE. Wouldn't you feed them? Wouldn't you quench their thirst? Wouldn't you care for their offspring? Some dying, some others starving. And those who could crying at night to be seen. They are cats. They are humans. They are people. They are migrants.

No Lar. 07. Migrantes.

The pandemic With everything that came after, it was a lapse of forgotten time And not lived Who cries at a number in the statistics In statistics The water that drags everything

No Lar. 06. Pandemia  con todo o que aconteceu despois

Humans burning in the East Chest-beating megalomaniacs shouting without rhyme or reason The involution is here humans looking in the West not seeing they let everything pass it will be too late the fire is spreading

No lar. 04. Remuíño que te submerxe no burato de afogar as penas.

No lar. 03. Hai tanto tempo que o mar non vexo que igual xa non é da mesma cor.

No lar. 02.- Indo onde os que xa se foron.

For a fake lighthouse to guide us through the true light

in the calm waters of the sea loches.

Que un falso faro nos guíe polo camiño certo da luz

I keep pushing myself so I don't fall.

However, rocks are being attached to my feet, bigger and bigger each time.

I burn my credit cards, the first step towards non-existence.

It's been a while since I existed.

They killed my humanity in that attack with unbalanced figures.

Now I am.

Now I am not.

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Vou tirando de min para non deixarme caer.

Pero cada vez poñen máis pedras, penduradas dos meus pés.

Incinerei as tarxetas bancarias, o primeiro paso cara a invisibilidade.

Fai tempo que xa non son.

A miña humanidade asasinárona naquil ataque de números descadrados.

Agora estou.

I’m so alone I’m so lonely When… You are not with me All I’ll ever do for you will always be insignificant It will always be… Nothing. Light points guiding me through the dark. And now I’m                              here. We are.

Fear.

I succumb to fear. My words get lost. Your absence takes me to already lived, already drunk, times where you had left me. Your abscence, just to imagine it, is not living.

Medos.

Every time you smile at me.

One moment more into infinity.

In a life supposed to be finite.

Presenza

Cada vez que me dás un sorriso

un intre máis no infinito.

Moments

Moments before many other moments When you have to go Painful beating Always, always a beating Never less painful than the time before the last one Pain measured through time Time measured through absence An absence that is always there You can aleyas can come back,

But you cannot be sure about it

Intres antes de moitos intres

                                               Cando te has de ir

Latexo doloroso

sempre, sempre un latexo

nunca menos doloroso que a pénultima vez.

unha dor que se mide en tempo

un tempo que se mide en ausencia

unha ausencia permanente

sempre hai volta

Sky

My daughter has a dog. I don’t, but he has me. He always had me fooled, letting me think I was free of him. But he has me so close, so really really close, without letting me know. Poor me. Cortazar’s clock.