The
encounter
of
dreams
and
tenderness.
Yes,
they
are
short
and
fortuitous
meetings,
but
always
dreams,
always
tenderness.
I
don’t
know
where
they
start
and
when
they
end,
because
they
are
ideal
and
unimaginable.
A
multitude
of
lives
lived,
similarity,
identity,
skies
of
blue
and
lilac,
afternoons
of
a
thousand
thoughts
and
magical
joys.
The
line
of
the
clear
horizon
illuminates
as
a
live
wire
does,
it
exists,
tenuous
and
magical,
separated
in
tones
over
tones
each
time
purer.
I
hear
splendorous
shades
of
light
with
a
smell
of
child
love,
ripe
and
ingenuous:
velvet-silk,
honey-fruit,
sweetly
and
softly
bitter
tasting.
Destiny
travels
lightly
with
tingles
of
dawn
or
golden
twilights.
Delicious
in
feeling
existences,
playful
images,
discerning
images
of
love.
Love!
