2010 Chile's mining accident
It is a transcending triumph...

This town is a poem
These roads are eloquent...

Waltzing
we poured...

Diminishing in transcendence,
perpetuating in deficiencies...

This moment is all
I am able to have for...

Death is what my hands are searching in my...
Death is a floating object...

Empty spaces are saturated by omnipresence
when mirrors recognise...

I love all the curves of this world
But I rather to be straight like an arrow...

The blankness of canvases and silence of papers
pouring over horizons...

Everytime we hug
we inbreathe each other...

What have we become
how palpable...

Sometimes I can hear
tempests' wails unfold in words...