Death can’t hold the ghosts, of the living.

Still have the scar from that bubble on the back of your wrist.

You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.

They know nothing of the living.

CHILDHOOD ISN’T SOMETHING YOU CAN HAVE.

although

YOU CAN LOSE IT

There are the pigeons, fluttering. End of the minute. Silence. Hundreds of pigeons fly at me, shit on you.

“Where does this blooming come from?”

From time.

“No. From your need to relive what you don’t even remember”.

CHILDHOOD IS SOMETHING ELSE.

a type of speech

MINUTIAE

You weren´t crying about mother.
Were crying because can't get your shadow to stick on.
Anyway, you weren´t crying.
(Peter Pan, Act 1)

You find laps that sheltered you and the same bosoms nursed you, although he eats from the dish of lentils and what must be eaten unsalted.

The lord has given, the Lord has taken away.

returning to the garden in the evening
shouting ready or not
and waiting twenty years to say
olly olly oxen free

The show begins. It’s ready. You sit to watch the audience. Now you can clap.

“he’s not home”
“do you know where he went?”
“to herd none of his sheep”

You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.

There are the pigeons, fluttering. End of the minute. Silence. Hundreds of pigeons fly at me, shit on you.

Death can’t hold the ghosts, of the living.

CHILDHOOD ISN’T SOMETHING YOU CAN HAVE.

although

YOU CAN LOSE IT

Still have the scar from that bubble on the back of your wrist.

“Where does this blooming come from?”

From time.

“No. From your need to relive what you don’t even remember”.

You find laps that sheltered you and the same bosoms nursed you, although he eats from the dish of lentils and what must be eaten unsalted.

The lord has given, the Lord has taken away.

They know nothing of the living.

CHILDHOOD IS SOMETHING ELSE.

a type of speech

MINUTIAE

You weren´t crying about mother.
Were crying because can't get your shadow to stick on.
Anyway, you weren´t crying.
(Peter Pan, Act 1)

returning to the garden in the evening
shouting ready or not
and waiting twenty years to say
olly olly oxen free

The show begins. It’s ready. You sit to watch the audience. Now you can clap.

Lullaby: low, slow song for soothing to sleep. Adult: differential position / insomnia. Jasmine: in Sufi aromatherapy, a bond-strengthening essence. Creature: living thing / product: of man’s imagination, generally fantastical in nature.

“he’s not home”
“do you know where he went?”
“to herd none of his sheep”

from the same arm of the scales
You satiate childhood with fables of fountains

Arid on his crown, he picks up the brush with his guitar fingers. Blue now, the mane keeps growing, or could it be the skin drying out?

You longed to be like her, whinnying in the storm, swimming the seas of the continent.

everyone likes you
because your parents are dead.

it’s not a game. It’s the last time he’ll let us in late.

One moment of silence.

You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.

There are the pigeons, fluttering. End of the minute. Silence. Hundreds of pigeons fly at me, shit on you.

“Where does this blooming come from?”

From time.

“No. From your need to relive what you don’t even remember”.

Death can’t hold the ghosts, of the living.

CHILDHOOD ISN’T SOMETHING YOU CAN HAVE.

although

YOU CAN LOSE IT

You find laps that sheltered you and the same bosoms nursed you, although he eats from the dish of lentils and what must be eaten unsalted.

The lord has given, the Lord has taken away.

CHILDHOOD IS SOMETHING ELSE.

a type of speech

MINUTIAE

Lullaby: low, slow song for soothing to sleep. Adult: differential position / insomnia. Jasmine: in Sufi aromatherapy, a bond-strengthening essence. Creature: living thing / product: of man’s imagination, generally fantastical in nature.

from the same arm of the scales
You satiate childhood with fables of fountains

You longed to be like her, whinnying in the storm, swimming the seas of the continent.

Still have the scar from that bubble on the back of your wrist.

returning to the garden in the evening
shouting ready or not
and waiting twenty years to say
olly olly oxen free

The show begins. It’s ready. You sit to watch the audience. Now you can clap.

“he’s not home”
“do you know where he went?”
“to herd none of his sheep”

One moment of silence.

They know nothing of the living.

Arid on his crown, he picks up the brush with his guitar fingers. Blue now, the mane keeps growing, or could it be the skin drying out?

everyone likes you
because your parents are dead.

it’s not a game. It’s the last time he’ll let us in late.

There are the pigeons, fluttering. End of the minute. Silence. Hundreds of pigeons fly at me, shit on you.

You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.

“Where does this blooming come from?”

From time.

“No. From your need to relive what you don’t even remember”.

Death can’t hold the ghosts, of the living.

CHILDHOOD ISN’T SOMETHING YOU CAN HAVE.

although

YOU CAN LOSE IT

CHILDHOOD IS SOMETHING ELSE.

a type of speech

MINUTIAE

You find laps that sheltered you and the same bosoms nursed you, although he eats from the dish of lentils and what must be eaten unsalted.

returning to the garden in the evening
shouting ready or not
and waiting twenty years to say
olly olly oxen free

The show begins. It’s ready. You sit to watch the audience. Now you can clap.

Still have the scar from that bubble on the back of your wrist.

There are the pigeons, fluttering. End of the minute. Silence. Hundreds of pigeons fly at me, shit on you.

You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.

“Where does this blooming come from?”

From time.

“No. From your need to relive what you don’t even remember”.

Death can’t hold the ghosts, of the living.

CHILDHOOD ISN’T SOMETHING YOU CAN HAVE.

although

YOU CAN LOSE IT

You find laps that sheltered you and the same bosoms nursed you, although he eats from the dish of lentils and what must be eaten unsalted.

The lord has given, the Lord has taken away.

Still have the scar from that bubble on the back of your wrist.

Lullaby: low, slow song for soothing to sleep. Adult: differential position / insomnia. Jasmine: in Sufi aromatherapy, a bond-strengthening essence. Creature: living thing / product: of man’s imagination, generally fantastical in nature.

They know nothing of the living.

CHILDHOOD IS SOMETHING ELSE.

a type of speech

MINUTIAE

from the same arm of the scales
You satiate childhood with fables of fountains

You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.

Death can’t hold the ghosts, of the living.

Still have the scar from that bubble on the back of your wrist.

CHILDHOOD ISN’T SOMETHING YOU CAN HAVE.

although

YOU CAN LOSE IT

CHILDHOOD IS SOMETHING ELSE.

a type of speech

MINUTIAE

There are the pigeons, fluttering. End of the minute. Silence. Hundreds of pigeons fly at me, shit on you.

“Where does this blooming come from?”

From time.

“No. From your need to relive what you don’t even remember”.

You find laps that sheltered you and the same bosoms nursed you, although he eats from the dish of lentils and what must be eaten unsalted.

returning to the garden in the evening
shouting ready or not
and waiting twenty years to say
olly olly oxen free

The lord has given, the Lord has taken away.

Lullaby: low, slow song for soothing to sleep. Adult: differential position / insomnia. Jasmine: in Sufi aromatherapy, a bond-strengthening essence. Creature: living thing / product: of man’s imagination, generally fantastical in nature.

from the same arm of the scales
You satiate childhood with fables of fountains

The show begins. It’s ready. You sit to watch the audience. Now you can clap.

Sara Camhaji

visualize the voice of thought.
think the image of the voice.
provoke destiny. play.
from chance, from the sigh.
understand the force that links
the image to the name.
the name is an image.
the image is a verb.
play. nothing is chance.
destiny is a game.
everything is destiny.

This site is part of the project "DON´T TAKE PHOTOS OF THE LANDSCAPE; TAKE PORTRAITS WITH THE VIEW OF THE BACKGROUND IF YOU LIKE", whose creative object revolves around the phenomenon of memory and its conceptual visualization. Thus, Sara explores the different languages on which the mind reloads its truth and the way it constructs our inner world.
About
SARA CAMHAJI (Mexico City, 1986) is a writer, teacher, and mother. Her work is a natural response to her lived experience and the emotional dimensions she has inhabited. She has told and written stories for her entire life. Poetry—the axis of her exploration—has prompted her to develop new discursive forms in close contact with inner human reality; wrenching, they open themselves to embodiment and appropriation. She has a master’s in creative writing, two children, and two published works: Maleza (Alboroto Ediciones, 2022) and this one. A selection of her poems appeared in the UNAM’s Periódico de Poesía. She received a grant from Asylum Arts in 2017 and was awarded the Peleh Fund arts residency in Berkeley, California, for 2023. Narrated poetry or poetic narrative? Sara writes in the voice of an archive with a voice of its own, like a thinking time machine, or from the dark sincerity of she-who-didn’t-know-she-had-to-live.
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