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■ The oak
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-04-19 | | There were drops of rain on my shoulders and between my palmsā¦ I forgot the ābeing afraidā and the ācoming homeā, There were nor barriers, Only the never ending kiss of the ground with the sky. This time I didnāt even dream I would touch it, I simply felt it on my skin, Caressing the wounds and redeeming my smile. There was the wind, shaking the leaves and sweeping the groundā¦ I forgot the seconds I didnāt feel like myself, though at that moment I was not āmeā ā I walked and though my feet trembled of tiredness, they didnāt tremble of fear anymore. This time I wasnāt crossing any bridge, but I was much closer to the world. I donāt know when the morning awoke me, and I didnāt feel the day go by, Suspended in dreams that I had lost and that have suddenly been recovered. Complexity of forms: square or round, rectangular and curvedā¦ Buildings and roads, the seed of me inside: in every shape around, In every music that heals or dooms my brain. Every beat of the sunās heart, every lazy smile of the moon, All got melted into the hurry of the rain, Splitting into thousands of cold drops. There was me, completely turned into rain.
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