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String Quartet No. 3.

"Abriendo
grietas al tiempo.
Los surcos
profundos
van arando la piel.
Sabiduría.

Cosecha
ya recogida,
barbecho
de invierno
que se llevan los vientos…
es el olvido.

Translated from Spanish by Google

Opening
cracks at the time.
The grooves
deep
They plow the skin.
Wisdom.

Harvest
already collected,
fallow
of winter
that the winds carry away...
It is oblivion."

--@mariaprieto_san

Deconstruction.

"How is anyone not on medication right now. Who is out here just rawdogging the decline of man" --@still_oppressed (via @mag_gabbert)

Escalator to Hell.