Scream
Wounded! Blood
on the arm (and the) leg.
Help! Here, here!
Help! Help!
Crazy, I know the gun
that hurts me,
and I think
about the scent
of the wounded roses
in the morning.
And I see the fear
that wounds his purity.
And you, always there.
And you, always killing.
And you, come here
(and) forget the water
that keeps coming back.
microstructures by a confined present and the virus. The water that keeps coming back. 2020