how beautiful the branch that went into the balcony of my kitchen when I was a child.
As I tended the arms tree, I gave her the most beautiful flower, I gave the green leaves, fans, light and pushed by the wind whispered a silent call.
Com 'it, I stretched out over the branch looking at the sky red from the sun disappearing behind his back, his hands toward the' not present.
L 'shadow of the evening look at the birth of the future, three seasons of life come together without the fourth.
sweet scent in the air.
One day, I said, grow up here and then it will be mine.
That day I'll be here waiting for his caresses.
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