---

The last second:

I can't imagine my birth,

I loose myself in the "beggining".

There has been always a terrible fear

to the begginings and to the ends.



In which moment we began to fear death?



Even the infinite is insufficient,

the exception is enormous.

For the first time a hole allows

to enter the outside to my body...

To be implies too much solemnity.



From time to time we see the moon

in search of answers; I've always believed

that truth is in the streets.



The outside and the steps are carried

away well, and what's of my exterior?

Just a crater,

that is a point and that disappears

upon covering the face with a white blanket.

Do I return? This time not!

The universe is one and of crystal:

fragil... November.

The silence arrived too late...

I turn my face toward the time, to my days of

6:45 p.m.