A NOOK TO STAY . Do not summon any longer, María, the soul of destitute things that are no more than the bones of this dead house.
Do not look for the emptiness of your body in the walls that do not know about you that do not ask about you; nor for the scars in the air of the embalmed blue that’s only here as proof of an abolished sky.
The landscape is all that you see, but it doesn’t know you exist, just as these things will tell nothing about you, about your wounds.
Remember, María, that you are the house and the walls that you came to demolish and that childhood is the territory in which the spook longs for I don’t know what dark nook to stay on.