Transparencias / Guillermo Sucre


          Not bathed but penetrated by light. Not what reflects us,
but what we see. The crystal, not the mirror: an image seen
without slant: clear, pure, absolute in itself, with no gleam.
An image that is image. A face that is a face
—most of all because of its eyes, because of its glance.
          Time is a gust. It is also a leaf suspended
between summer and autumn, that we’ll never see fall.
Breathing in suspense allows no surprise or memory. We are
what the animal is on earth: the habit of devouring itself
in its own skin. The light rubs us like the sand on
a beach where we are being left alone. With the sea and
the night. The wind. The salt that secretly extends itself.

{ Guillermo Sucre, La vastedad, Ciudad de México: Editorial Vuelta, 1988 }

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