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CHEWING THE DAYBREAK When I woke up, daybreak was pouring with its warm waters, the implosive stones of the streets, the human rivers. The roads dismantled the world, into bittersweet waves light as, at some point, and everything counted and throbbed the presence. My affluent sight with drowsy iris recapped, over and over, the passage of light, I saw myself like a new man, discovering the earth, and I’d like to name the wind, throbbing scar and to the stones, hearts of iron nonetheless, the smell of aged liquor rested in my maw. a smooth sweat lied on my skin, the feeling of having loved, forever, dwelled in my bones. I am chewing the daybreak, it means the path I must follow, waves of sound made by a sweet tone, started to take me, and the daybreak, enter through the mountains of my mouth
Marco Antonio Gabriel Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico, 1977. He holds a bachelor’s degree on Hispanic Letters from the University of Guadalajara, author of the poetry book Tornasol y Fuego by Editorial Paraíso Perdido. He has been published in the Anthologies Poesía viva de Jalisco and 101 poetas - 101 pintores. Internship of the Program for the Artistic Promotion, Creation, and Development, 2008-2009. He is the editor of Ediciones el Viaje.
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