The words that came with the wind, laden with the marine and saline breeze that refreshes the corners of my soul, which oxygenates the molecules of my being and full of joy my lonely anxiety hanging from the branches of jacarandas.
What words came to me? Those which hold my heartbeats and throb in unison with the letters I collect with my weary sight.
What words came to me? Those that blow which blizzard in twisted circles movements, leaving behind the impurities of yesterday. The words, yes, those words that build ideas and with which we play every day without knowing their meaning, but which are inevitably doomed to express.
What words came to me? Those which condemn me to a freedom and don’t give me an excuse to be wrong or to blame anyone, but to accept my responsibility for my untold daily acts. Those letters, those words that conjugate all in one, lilting and unique word, form for me, the word love.