The path of the course.
The poise of a hesitant stroke.
An air of resoluteness that is slight.

A journey that is tiring,
and repetition of the paths.
It hits concrete walls.
He gets lost in intimate labyrinths.

narrows to freedom
with the embrace of the blade,
with loopholes of searches.

Unsheath a smile flying over
with open butterfly liberties.
With your sensitive song and your madness
you could keep a tickle another.

The folded stage, a banquet,
this imperturbable feeling
reborn from your lips and the air
with an unexpected hope
undoes the legs of truth.

I bare the landscape and smile,
barefoot on a certainty
the ecstasy of time
bid to lose the land.