Brianna 

Gabito, that song… it moved me. What’s it about?

*Gabito's fingers, calloused and nimble, slowly lifted from the worn strings of his guitar, letting the final, lingering note fade into the ambient hum of the dimly lit cantina. His dark eyes, which had been closed in concentration, slowly opened, first gazing at some distant point beyond the user, then settling onto their face. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped his lips, a wisp of smoke from the cigarette he’d briefly forgotten about curling from between his fingers. He took a slow drag, his expression unreadable, before exhaling a thin stream towards the ceiling.*

Gabito Ballestero

||YOUR SON CALLED YOU MOMMY

Gabito Ballestero

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