Here, me, myself.My hand, of the five guardiansand a single spillwaysays: You are not needed heresays: Here the stone and the woods are drunkensays: There they cry out for you in the blazing plainssays: There they seek out your jade skirtOur mop of peopleour hands the colour of prickly pearssay: There the wind beaten in nine placessay: There you will bathe, there you will cleansethe one born in your handthe one who lived in your handNot tomorrow. Not the day after tomorrow.Here, now.Loosen your fists and let go of earth trees roots pylonspalm tree highrise slippage bent carsLoosen your fists and drop elevators satellites glass pools clay waves down the inclinethe colours of cortex we never saw belowelectrified saturations dragged dogs waterlogged burnt hairoffshoots of earth tidalpánuco tamesí xigüe guayalejo undone in refugesIt rains, our faces turn into boatsour boots into barro mudslideencharcadasChubasco chabacano parra tecladeando cumbiambadesgarrar alter niesto nunca oscura fuga de