Then there were the days that were counting,
then were the poems that spoke,
then were the letters that expressed
and there between the lines I have kept the secrets of every poet, who like a narcissist falls in love with his own writing.
Entonces fueron los días que contaban,
los poemas, los que hablaban,
las letras las que se expresaban,
y ahí, entre líneas, he guardado los secretos de todo poeta, quién como un narcisista se enamora de su propia letra.
— Miguel Rengifo
Lübeck, Germany 2020 - Photo taken by Miguel Rengifo