For Me Writing Is Like Breathing. I

Never An Illness, Nor The Absence Of Grandeur, No, Nothing Is Able To Kill The Best In Us, That Kindness, Dear Sir, We Are Afflicted With: Beautiful Is The Flower Of Man, His Conduct, And Every Door Opens On The Beautiful Truth And Never Hides Treacherous Whispers. I Always Gained Something From Making Myself Better, Better Than I Am, Better Than I Was, That Most Subtle Citation: To Recover Some Lost Petal Of The Sadness I Inherited: To Search Once More For The Light That Sings Inside Of Me, The Unwavering Light.

Love Has To Be…flowering Like The Stars, And Measureless As A Kiss.

Your Wide Eyes Are The Only Light I Know From Extinguished Constellations.

Como Se Reparten El Sol En El Naranjo Las Naranjas? How Do The Oranges Divide Up Sunlight In The Orange Tree?

Then Scale By Scale, We Strip Off The Delicacy And Eat The Peaceful Mush Of Its Green Heart.