The acted children casually prepare to pour into the act of violence
through the window of broken cups, attention doesn't weaken
missing presents itself as a proper image, at the intersection of these, images or acts, which are children
quite intensely, the peas are white, their loneliness is a re-cess whose eye knows something
why go looking for pretexts, when moving the position solves nothing? My shoes are rankings, they act among themselves like the race
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem