Category Archives: Laila Pedro

I’m hungry for the site of your birth: for spreading landscapes, a vista of acres burnt like an offering; a desert church. but (working, as always, from memory): I’m afraid of losing my own, my invasive, my in-sloping horizons that … Continue reading →

Gracias. Por tu melodía (me la sabía sin saberlo) que me arrastró, fuera del sueño por mi mente, suave, tranquila, blasonada con consiencia su escudo el despierto por las palabras que se bifucaron paseando donde no debían por tu saludo … Continue reading →

when rain inverted the garden we reversed our view and, seamlessly, we were granted a picture window: a sheltering maple (flat, you said, so the leaves can catch the water) allowed light through, only, in gold white daubed and flashing … Continue reading →