It’s time to prolong the rhythm where silence rests
create vertigo
maybe the horror
sharpen the irony
die laughing at myself
caress the edges of silence with pure words.
The sun hides its light every dawn
In time my space increases or decreases
and my love goes crazy
Palm trees wave high behind their green background
the ants in a row are arranged low
long tasks in short life
but my wait is neither high nor long.
When tilling the land, certain fruits have a bittersweet flavor.
Yes. Thus the pale hours of fear soften me
until I spread my desires on the avenues
where sadness lies.
There everything is mine and I have nothing
the orange tree blooms
when the dust sweeps the afternoon.