They looked far beyond
from my hands
I wanted to clean the walls to take you
with the security of time
without the fears of falling
but I didn't know how
Failure marks the tattoos of your voice
in each braid of my tears
Right now
you sleep sheltered in your fears
and I without being able to remove myself
almond powder
They looked far beyond
to leave you an orphan of yourself
like who flees to the forest without trees
leaving me without strength to smile
without seasons
they peeked out
and I have lost my freedom.

The poet said:
I am alive,
but it does not matter.
I never knew
if I heard it in my town,
or in that place they call fair
and the sad madmen gather,
where the poets also parade
even if they can't buy anything,
they faint
or do not understand the meaning
of the word Fair,
even if they are not poets
though
not this
alive