It’s not that important
the language in which I write
or in which you read me,
we are part of the same language
which we learned by dreaming so many motives.
We will play to decipher the stellar light,
while poetry opens our wings,
blurring the sadness of us
like a story that once filled us with emotion.
And a comet will come to contemplate
the prodigies of every shared dream,
the hope, of each new awakening,
that lives entangled in each heart on…
As a world in which the word is able to dilute each weapon.
