It's been difficult
to be a rock and a wall...

she said we need a revolution
and a red heart...

I summon you
to touch her suffering...

There's nothing left of us to long for anymore.
things that not move...

She doesn't want to bet clothes
or four people around here...

As I write this last letter, the sun dies in my...
my vowels and consonants carry my shame and cross...

The poet is against himself,
in constant struggle for air...

Today I wrote I missed you for the first time
since your death in February...

She hanged her heart on a tree,
without fearing the burns as...

He tried hard to anchor her
to the ground as if her mind would respect him...

A heart touched my heart
with some smooth red wine words...

Let me sleep
as the night bleeds stars...