We matched our watches and left
in different directions on the edge of time.
We wandered the unknown from the wind equation,
seeking a season without loneliness
in the spring budded words.

At the meeting date,
rusted of emotion, we are looking for the place
where the overflow seeds will sprout
and nothing had happened.

The bones geometry is lost,
other angles sharply open
towards the yellowing of envy autumns,
the winters are to come on white horses
in which you will be missing.

I’m getting ready to isolate in a shell
buried like a snail
in the slag of a just begun millennium. .