I'm waiting for my love.
How long is a
the dark days or a week.
The fire is gone now and I feel like a horrible cold.
Maybe I should drag myself outside but then there would
the sun.
I'm afraid of wasting the light colored
for the anthem to write these words.
die.
We die rich with lovers and tribes
tastes we have swallowed
of bodies that have penetrated
back as rivers of fear in which we hid in this cave as
without memory haunted
indifference indifference
mediation and thoughts.
I want all that remains engraved on my body
we are the real countries
not frontiers
plotted on maps with names of powerful men.
I know you will come and take me out of here
in the palace of winds.
I never wanted more than walking into a place like that with you, with your friends.
a land without maps.
The lamp is off and I'm writing in the dark.
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