Status Updates From Bajo el sol jaguar

‘If you isolate one sound from another—it seems to burst forth suddenly—but—You also were there, before. And now? You could not answer. You do not know which of these breaths is yours. You no longer know how to listen—Only the night listens to itself—Epigraphs in an undecipherable language—letters rubbed away—We will not distinguish musk from verbena—amber—bergamot—bitter-almond will remain mute—Is it violet-like?’

‘Threatening or comforting as it may be—It has been a long time since you felt yourself attracted—But all you remember—of the yearning that devoured you is your persistence—What is it? Not that song—which you—have heard—too many times—you are attracted by that voice—a living person, throat—chest—feelings—who sends into the air—voice—different from all—What attracts you is the pleasure this voice puts into existing—’

‘—fruits—conceal in the sweetness of their pulp subtle messages of asperity and sourness—The solar energy coursed along dense networks of blood and chlorophyll—living and dying in all the fibers—that absorb the sun—assimilated ceaselessly—in the universal cannibalism—its imprint on every amorous relationship and erases the lines between our bodies and sopa de frijoles, huachinango a la vera cruzana, and enchiladas.’