CHEMA EN CHICAGO

"Dulce paralluvias eléctrico, abrázame

en la húmeda noche eterna..."

Timetravel is forbidden.

But kids

do it anyway.

Lights on all night

On lunar plains

no sound, no movement

but the lens of the probe

Asteroids collide

without a sound...

We maneuver between fragments.

The stars look lovely

through

these borrowed eyes.

Through starry tapestries we flee

sleeping fitfully

chasing photons, we dream

while Earth dies.

Digging up an ancient city,

finding the print

of a tennis shoe.