
in the deep feeling of desiring belonging,
which is almost confused with the origin.
As if we really came from one another and as if we wanted to return there.
Enveloped embrace,
of sweet moods and thoughts,
but at the same time full of a full,
full and frustrating waiting at the same time.
Condemnation for the enthusiasm,
salvation for consistency.
In that womb there is all the density of the impossible that melts slowly,
together with tense thoughts that become smiles,
in the goodness of the juices that we have been sharing for some time.
You will wash me again,
and you will keep me there,
in the belly, as I will,
every time you are exiled.