Alice

Azimut (en ingles)

I am the angel of the house

dusting, darning socks, cooking.

The sweet butterflies seek

the most beautiful flowers and love them.

You look up, if you will,

when you get back.



I read the newspaper

of a special date

here is the time

I had waited for so much.



They are the devil's house I

of a star canceled the Azimut

the pressure drops me, that it will be,

perhaps the autumn wind that is already here.

Esco just a moment.



A leaf touches my cheek

I ignore it, it happens,

I try a shadow, which is not; but

in looking back I understand what it is:

my house is not there.