Cynthia Pelayo constructs a narrative in her poetry in response to the
work of Jorge Luis Borges that examines the themes and subsequent
consequences of insomnia, death, and blindness. There's a visionary
quality to her work that dances along the line between the present world
that we inhabit and the other world that lingers beyond the veil. Her
poetry folds back this blanket of darkness, and shows readers the quiet
violence and beauty that hides beneath waiting to be exposed,
experienced, and encompassed.
Pelayo showcases this scream of silence through an urban and
metaphysical night as she reflects on the spiritual, the occult, and the
everyday happenings that become extraordinary in their own rights. Her
poems are sermons, prayers to the voices that surround us in the dark,
and comforts to those who watch over us as we sleep. Her style is
honest, raw, and her voice will leave readers asking questions about
what waits for them in the beyond, and whether or not their sins and
frustrations are trapping them in the here and now. She shows us that
all too often, there is nothing to be scared of when the sun goes down,
but that sometimes, we have every reason to be afraid, especially as we
enter her world of blackness and decay, of smudged fingerprints and
burnt pictures. These poems are cautionary tales for those who choose
not to cover their eyes, warnings for those who refuse to find the
light. And when our dreams come to roost, when our sleep eases us in,
Pelayo shows us what nightmares are made of, and why there are some
stories we can never escape.
