TERESA MORALEZ

‘Tis this season, in the holiest of spirits, in the graciousness of the closure that comes upon our calendars as winds are bringing...

Rain. Comienza con la lluvia. Rinsing. Washing. Limpieza. I look across el rio and see la ciudad in movement, bridged between...

I woke upon descent the graze of my hand against the cold parts of your skin the return of heat to sleepy surfaces surrendered in slumber...