The Years of the rabbit

I remember very little from those years: the years of the rabbit. My favorite animal, my favorite color, the mountain in front of my house, my friends’ faces, the games with my sisters. Leaving my life in Mexico like that erased my memory. I color in these memories as an attempt to gather them. Forever. I remember very little from those years: the years of the rabbit. My favorite animal, my favorite color, the mountain in front of my house, my friends’ faces, the games with my sisters. Leaving my life in Mexico like that erased my memory. I color in these memories as an attempt to gather them. Forever.