There, where nobody sees me

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There are things that captivate us: fresh grass, the chill after a downpour, a beam of light where specs of dust dance and play, porcelain figurines, photographs, and the breeze that scatters the tiny pods of a dandelion, blowing them higher and higher.
Even though poetry is sometimes short and may seem rough, poetry is always gentle. And for poets, although they can be lyrical, they can also be very sincere.
In the poem New York of Lorca, one can find sincerity - the kind described by Alejandra Pizarnik - for behind the violins, solitude and silence, the truth, the everlasting semantics of the poem, lifts a tree from the ground before the reader.
In Saily Fuentes’ poetry, one can find the gentleness like those first described. It is poetry that, although still young, are wrapped in the tulles of faith and nostalgia.
One must surrender himself to her poems, and find oneself in the freedom of their rhymes. Turn to the discovery of the hope that this new voice subtly presents to us.