My child lives in the city
of the pointy
and perfect roofs,
witches’ hats,
curvilinear, where the rain
navigates through.
In the flat roofs island,
the dry ravines of the eternal summer
always end in the sea.
One day they will come,
violent,
the ravine will run
and will take with it
the absences,
the spaces.
There will not be anymore silences,
neither secrets nor walls.
My child has a heart,
incandescent in spite
of enigmatic doubts.
Allow the flow,
aquatic,
let yourself be dragged
to the beach,
sink in the sea.
My child is strong,
like an Amazon.
Be strong,
cry.