Afraid I am not of the darkest room I am not 3 anymore and anyway people surround me and darkness is just a temporary solution. The glittering screen made of silver threads
I am back sitting on the old chair, in the porch in the backyard, pondering about life and things to come, of the ways of the world so wicked and wrong, of the good laughter and warm hugs
I think of Madrid where once we hold hands where we gave each other little kisses like a pecking woodpecker in love with a sap-giving bark. I think of the blue blue sky of Madrid
There are awful days. That is a fact of life. But there are also trees. With green bright foliage. Have you wondered what is the memory of trees? Their millenial wisdom,
From the top of this pyramid I see the sun going down in its parabolic trajectory, night will come quickly and stars will show their faces. Their old and wrinkly faces.