Today we are others
Today we are others. Today we are others who yesterday were breathing in the extremity of that short silence. We are others who would touch with absent rubbing the sharp edge of things. Today we are others who rise through the air and its high climbs. The old splendor was extinguished in quietest oblivion. Today we are others in merciless waiting stopped.
{ Antonia Palacios, Ese oscuro animal del sueño, Caracas: Monte Ávila Editores, 1991 }
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