Santiago

Santiago is so alive. The city is always awake. Always moving. In Barrio Bellavista —a neighborhood that pulses to the beat of 6 simultaneous DJ sets from 4pm til’ I don’t know when. We never stayed up late enough to find out. 

But we did eat Taco Bell.

You know how this is:

if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me, 
for I shall already have forgotten you.

We’ll leave here and head for Peru. It doesn’t matter where we go next or how long we spend there. Soon we’ll be back home. Back at work. And all these experiences, all the people we’ve met, everything we’ve eaten or drank will just be a short conversation for a few months. Until Chile is too far away to still talk about.