On the nature of Love — If I say Love: I don’t say desire; I don’t say control; I don’t say possession. If I say I love you: I mean The Me in You, The You in Me, and The Me in Them. Therefore, when I say I love You, I love Them as well. But…

On killing and being — Seventy-three miles an hour, cruise control. An empty black highway, nothing more. I’m finally by myself on a New Mexican mountain road when I see you in the grayish lighting of the beams of the car that gives you the appearance of a dream or a bad-quality night photograph, Innocence…

Poesía No ha querido ella, mi alegría, ella ser tu desdicha. Si yo sé de alegrías, y sé que no han de volver, si yo no he querido, mi reina, romperte el corazón otra vez. Yo tan solo he querido, el olor de otras flores oler, si yo sé de alegrías, y sé…

A Poem — Come here, Friend! Sit by the fire, My fire, Our fire. And tell me that story of old, Your story, My story, Of the Peasant who nothing had, And one morning at dawn, A beautiful bird he heard sing, By the orchard belonging to the King. And its feathers he…

On Freedom — The problem with incarceration is that you become acquainted with the walls. The routines mold you to their demands, and you get used to the rewards, no matter how small they are. You think of the guards as your friends, even when they are holding you hostage to your past. …

A poetic meditation — It feels like a procession to a sacred place. We are in a sacred place now. Silence imposes itself upon us. There’s only the sporadic coughing. There may be water building up in our lungs. The sporadic word of encouragement to a fellow competitor. The occasional meditation I whisper on…