I planted the dry seed

 

He was a good comrade

She was sweet

My mother is still the only terrain where I never would sprout

she was magnificent did not need a dry seed in your country

when I came I brought the presence

I left her world of soft love for a mess where anything does not up

I live there that is here

In this spot I wrote these words, did not with words but with what could be

It was my father with whom I learned to be what could be.

In his imagination I was the germination.

He would believe that it was here where the world could be good

I fold my senses with what felt by father

He was worse

does not exist a garden or gardener

light from alive eyes

a beautiful joy

a little

here art is forbidden

sadness

desolation

interdiction

My mother had reason about

because I showed me to her

They never could know I could be what could not be

I planted myself

a far this place

I