It was hell from heaven:
She touched that skin with so much care...

He touched my hand, saying
the Sufis believed that the space...

You ask me
what I will miss the most...

I loosen my hair in the wind,
writing fragments of poetry...

When i love,
i don't love...

I am you inside of me
and the hunter and deer...

Those eyes behind the mirror
are like cameras watching me...

Disarmed, she sat for some minutes,
thinking about certainties...

"When I stand before thee at the day's end...
Rabindranath Tagore...

Yesterday is today:
pseudo faces, alter-egos...

In this part of our story,
you bounce from one end...

If you could get out of your own light
for three minutes...