... in these days of the week so uncertain where I live, my body feels tired .... supported in the shadow of this loneliness that absorbs the pulses of my nostalgia ... yawn gasps trying to find an answer to what others call questions ... I cover my face with tears, stroking my lips shaped, reaching its final ... And once again I defoliation as a flower ... my petals fall at night and DOA ... My mornings go by without notice, without letting my body float, without reaching at least the dreams I'm drawn to other verses ... Where I left my pulse? ... Where I lost what I conceived sunny moments? ... I wrote in the sky tangled words I wrote thinking of the bodies that take over the air ... and how unfair the world is from this other angle ... up there, shouting angrily, where the rest think it's just a simple storm ...
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