In a curve of destiny
my sight escapes from me
at the crossroads.
I paint figures without proportion
that corner the body.
The images tell stories
of phantom colors
and of lines that confuse the street.
I am lost
and the world is not a labyrinth.
YOU ARE READING
When I close my door
PoetryI dedicate this work to all the friends who are left in the heart. To all those who love me. In When I close my door, a social interest and a renunciation for the sake of communication is explicit, the subject destroys his exterior, recomposes himse...
