The silence is total,
except for the boots,
walking down the hall,
no sound is mine

they do not leave me
they come
and inside I crunch
even silence is not the death of sound.

 

It's cold,
much,
to the bone,
Take me off, take away ......

First grade physics:
the cold does not exist,
it's just a transfer fee ...
but ****
I am cold.

I have lost weight?

I do not know,
does it matter?

... ..I do not even have the belt to measure it.

There is no mirror,
no reflections ...
I do not look at me.

I feel so light!

One can some things
, being isolated less.

Moisture stains tell me
I give them shapes,
I name them
Today are my clouds.

The first woman is there,
in the corner corner,
good-natured, teacher,
sweet.

I see the tamarisks,
that hip
in the wind
our enjoyment

Suddenly and through my eyes,
everything is there,
  and I also.

  somewhere,
... well maybe I'll get in there

In the sands of time,
the red beat,
almost at the end,
of this end.

For not wanting to see .....
What else will be lost?
By those hands ....
What else have you not touched?

There is a horizon,
There,
all around,
the summits of life.

Of the event,
of those hands,
the power to see from behind,
and contemplate the infinite.

I would like a more flowery dress,
and some less sinister clouds .....

Ema has eyes of full silence
that silently say it all
Look of gentle wolf
wolf herd mother

Warm eyes, flashes of the soul
Where you can guess pride
They overflow tenaciously,
of woman of the earth,
hands on earth

Ema's eyes

That tell still alive stories
With the softness of the iron edge
With the shine of fine steel

If one knows how to see,
see in the eyes of Ema.

Eyes that become gigantic in mine
Deep in the deep
Recognizing signs and traces
of Yesterday, of Today, of the future,
of the eternal.

Eyes of a wolf herd mother.
This is how Ema's eyes are.

The salt covered her face,
forming tiny crystals,
in the corner of her lips.

Her eyes closed,
Moving  under the eyelids,
slow,
in a relaxed sleep.

She raises her hand with guessing
where he is,
almost to her side.

Seeing how crystals form,
how his face shines against a distant light.

A hand stops in the air,
soft,
like following a music that has stopped.

He makes hugs gestures,
and supports her hands.

A smile is drawn,
the crystals fall off,
regulars,
in waves they shed.

Hes hands go to chest
that breathes,
, their mouths opens.

There will be no more salt.
... the thirst will be quenched.

There is a girl,
on the threshold of the world,
right there,
where everything is

But there are no castanets.

There is a girl,
as of Blue, she is of all colors,
with smiles of sunrises.
As a girl she has all ages,


Survivor,
pertinacious,
anxious about life,
delight of this life.

Drawing back the veils of time,
with a lot of effort,
she knows about death,
as much as I know

She has hope somewhere.

Soft and hard,
never give up,
Even in the night!
She wants to be eternal.

There is a girl sitting,
It's a girl,
who longs,
that suffers,
Even almost losing the balance.

Where the night and the day are one
uncertain place, she is

There is a ******* the edge of the world!