Every death is premature
Every death occurs at dawn, when imposed
crystals oblivion, silent crickets
when his afanso rumor.
When life decides to sleep.
Every death is premature, undesirable,
first death.
A fly delineates the words of sleepless
waiting not to die at dawn, when the dream is within reach.
The wind is silent.
The death and dislocation are displayed here as I try to wake
an endless night.
If it is, any death is premature,
least himself.
