The puddle always individuates itself against the...
even the rain constantly increases the puddle...

An Old Poem
After forty-eight hours...

Don't leave her.
Separation is not freedom...

Birds dwell on your boughs
just when they really know...

Surviving the night,
the new blossom has no choice...

The dawns of towns are
empowered by the shadows...

When the wind
at its hasty ingress...

The audience adored him...

When I do not find your black eyes
everything founders...

Now
is a magnificent creature of infinity...

This moment that past
is the best of what could be...

Maybe only music could slow this heart rate.
Maybe for me is already too late...