I don't like Paradise, as they probably don't have obsessions there..

We are hungry for tenderness, in a world where everything abounds we are poor of this feeling which is like a caress for our heart we need these smal….

As for me, I used to be a bird with a gentle white womb, someone cut my throat just for laughs, I don’t know. As for me, I used to be a great albat….

In that moment, I could not write anything about flowers because I myself had turned into a flower, I myself had a stem and a lymph..

I used to hold a fiery wind and I tried to determine the direction where poetry would fly..