a long time ago
who has turned pale
that sunny sky
Its echoes, its memories
they have vanished.
Of all there is to tell
in the thick jungle that happens
a testimony of mine seems to seek
the clear weeding exercise
to speak from reverence
and the silence
certain thing that to prepare the earth
plow the ground and look for territories
to sow meaning and silence
that they look for the sky from time to time
the scorching sun
the excellent moons
life
the experience of time
conjugated in all foreign beings
is an inexorable part of my narrow
ineffable,
lend to finitude
fragile and human
simplicity
i will die one day
and a new car ad
will light up the night again
others, the others
they will come more jovial
to plant a new world
maybe another sphere and reality
and maybe
there are also other jungles
and senses
I'm holding on to a borrowed life
one day I will come to deliver my salt
and my memory
hopefully
to a couple
of generations
the most proper is oblivion
a holy silence
that remains whole
and sheltered
in the time of history.