Conspirators in pajamas who exchange deep kisses for passwords.
In the distance someone is singing.
Everything is ceremony in the wild garden of childhood.
Every day you play with the light of the universe.
Tomorrow we will only give them a leaf of the tree of our love, a leaf which will fall on the earth like if it had been made by our lips like a kiss which falls from our invincible heights to show the fire and the tenderness of a true love.
For me writing is like breathing. I could not live without breathing and I could not live without writing.