

Fine sand. Shells and dried seaweed on the shore.
I was a child and I looked at the horizon and I believed that beyond that line there was my beautiful future.
Instead, now that I am here and I live or my future I can say that it is sad, empty, tasteless.
No company. Just cats, birds, flowers and plants.
I should be happy with so much nature but this nature intrigues me even more.
I have an abyss with every little step.
An innocent look. And people understand that and it hits.
I have a body they desire and they make me feel ashamed of pleasure.
I don’t want to know the passion of your dreams. I don’t want to feel your hands.
But I couldn’t resist the breath of your desire. And I have no peace inside my guts.
And I have no peace inside my heavenly flesh.
I am not only a body and there is not only passion.
Don’t write on my skin. I remain pure.

Who can’t light the candle.
And turn on another one
But the result is the same. And you ask yourself:
Maybe the candle is fake? Is it certified plastic?
Or is the flame too small? Take a good look at the candle,
You turn it over and over.
Scratch with your fingernail hoping to find the mystery.
But she remains intact.
And the flame stays out.
The room in the dark.
You are not afraid.
Look out at that huge lamppost
And you lie down with the divine light on your face.