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I knew that was a farewell, a desperate attempt to hold onto the sand slipping through our fingers, and my mood was a precarious balance of joy and sadness. I refused to think about the future. Instead, I focused on trying to freeze time and capture those moments. Like in that poem where Jaime Gil de Biedma recalls one of his lost paradises: a perfect moment with his friends, “And I begged, shouted, please let us never, never, ever go back home.”
Isabel María González Granda
Mario López-Goicoechea
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What a beautiful post. Thanks for sharing.
London-based, Cuban writer. Author of “Cuban, Immigrant, and Londoner” https://uk.bookshop.org/a/6886/9781528994293 https://acubaninlondon.medium.com/membership
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