“Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.”

- Virginia Woolf

Discover. Explore. Let your self go through the sound. Be amazed.



The Mystic Poems

The Mystic Poems

”A silhouette, winged biology without vertebrae, demands the flood. You laugh, but the jungle throw away their red bodies. They disolve their flesh to be born again.”


You are not here

every night
although it fades
I drink your sweet
behind the world

my tongue pierces the darkness
and without eyes I bless your body

I can smell your breath

your legs on the cotton

this sheets

the grave where I now visit you

protects you from the waters of time
that washes our memory

The mirror

no one knows the other side of the mirror
not even the sage

nobody takes care
of those who wander
on its canvas

they are naked
in front of doors
from another land

in their dreams we see them

in their dreams they smell us

no one knows the other side of the mirror
an unnavigable sea of eyes
haunts for our flesh
the gate of reflections.

The death of all names

I can only hear music between the bodies
sacred sounds


scars that reveals other world

a space where the death of all names

is our victory.

Jonathan Lerma H.

2732 2048 Jonathan Lerma H.
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