Where Are You, Dad I know you were not in that languid and absent body.
A Picture Of My Father And My Son
A continuous dialogue with absent full avatars holding my life, a constant coming and going to nowhere trying to cling to something or why, now with my father in the picture He is holding my son in my arms Proud keeping our future, with him I speak of the things we never said we the hidden intimacies that may not exist trying to make sense of the empty set in stone.
