Iliana Rodríguez can read and draw with words the elusive messages that draws in the streets the night “of long avenues / as expectations”; the trees, whose “mineral blood drags / the dark secrets”; the wind, which destroys and transforms; and even the inhabitants of the city, who turn into figures. The poet writes: “I would like to decipher / the ideogram of my palm: / the sign that defines. / Then I watch my hand / tracing / these words / with its brush.” Iliana Rodríguez, a growing voice in the poetry of México, makes the signs of the city and the world turn around in her threshold of water and light, in these poems.

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