I have rotated the ideas,
like blades of a wind tower
or from a fan sucking
the pains of the soul.
The apparent loneliness is broken,
there are noises and echoes of voices coming
from the bottom of a throat
trapped in some cave of time.
I build a tower of ideas,
I draw spaces and visualize places
where I have spent the night in other times,
without remembering, if it was before birth
or somewhere in the dream.
I have broken silences, which roll
like crystals through the streets,
I have opened healed wounds
In pain. And I've shed tears
when a winter was necessary
in my eyes.
Ideas flow like water
from an inexhaustible source, they strike
like waves on the cliffs
of memory, like a river
of violent streams or the docile
lake water, in the scarlet sunset
of the blood.
There are sunrises that destroy the soul
and sunsets that put the pieces together
of love and make life reborn.
I have opened unknown doors,
that turn into paths
I have opened paths that become
in huge spaces like cities,
infinite like the universe.
inexhaustible as dreams.
... Meanwhile, a white page
he interrogates me