A wise man said:
what you give, you give it
what you do not give, you take it away.

In a closed fist only a little sand fits,
by an open hand
It passes all sand of the desert.

To give you must be willing to receive.

Maybe Autumn is the easiest time to see it.

That leaf ... that leaf ...  eternal ....... yes.

the poems are messages thrown in a bottle to the sea
never we will know where arrive
nor when
nor how
nor who read
nor how  those eyes be

The city purrs,
someone stumbles
and it says curses ........

There are hoses on the street.

Everything is white, black,
blurry,
greenish in the corners.

She whispers something,
with your index finger on her lips,
frowning,
A mermaid sounds
with a gesture she puts in its place the porter.

She  is still standing.
Is it all you wanted and deserve?

Someone climbs a ladder,
a child greets,
she makes a sculpture
with her  packages.

Was she a different person?

The time is thinner,
and the night fades,
...... she wish were then ...

She leans to soften her neck
Acommodates  her coat ,  
and look at the taxi driver,
but he  did not pay attention

She keeps frowning .....
She still standing,
Is it all you wanted and deserve?
She is a different person, I think.