A POETIC DEVICE

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Is it achievable to live without generating expectations of anything or anyone? At the most of 2012?

Has anyone been able to economise illusions in such a way that none of them would break like towels when they freeze but when they are needed they would be intact and at hand?
Is it possible to fall in love halfway, to suffer just enough, to rejoice in moderation, to be disappointed just enough?
Where is the limit between the one and the other?
If you find it and don't pass it, do you still have enough sensibility to write, to dance, to see poetry everywhere, to gently touch the air?
Is sensitivity a pack all or nothing?
At what cost is the kilo of naivety at 40, 50, 60? Or do you also get used to a lack of it?

Anyway. All these questions are nothing more than a `poetic device'

Poesía: Alma Aguado Calvo

Danza: Esther Rodríguez-Barbero

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Justas Poéticas Dueñas, Palencia. Colaborando con el Colectivo Elefante Rosa

Muestrarte Happening, La Tabacalera, Madrid​

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