In my dream, Raven walks like a man.My friend Cuervo, who grew up in Columbia, warned me, "If you see a really big raven, I mean, one that is big like a dog, it's a spirit or a brujo, and not a good one."
Raven lopes towards me, beak wide open and pink inside, so I know he's young, but I don't know what he wants, so I wake up.
I draw every feather and shadow of him until he walks off the page to tell me why he is here.
Raven just flew by my window. I can see everything through the wall of glass, the light so beautiful I can breathe.
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