
Joaquín Luna
Incorporeal
Shadows: Being again Crosses, they cross. Escape. We’ll never cease being and we never were. Downcast, The mark condemns, sets free. Again, the paper is stained by blood The time goes back Clock hands are collapsing. The limit, the beginning is also there. Emptiness vanishes, they disintegrate, are forgotten, merged with the Whole. It’s only in your mind Like metallic voices that echo in the Dome they rise, reflect, take delight in one another. They’re on the other side Behind the plastic curtain and they carry on, without being, Light.