Where everything was scarce
were you
Fly me the word
purify my air
with the tip of the wing
in the vacant space
you write.
Go out
to be seen
to disappear
Save me this poem
in what remains of the fire
in the fruit of sense
of your hands.
Where everything was scarce
you were.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem