...

Your words make me die. I can see how beautiful life is. And born again. In another place. Rain has gone. Is. Really is. The truth I'm carring inside me is this now. Having kittens, always. I'm still someone who loves. Young. Like my words. Like myself.

Spring comes. By the air. I smell it

fresh perfum. Now it's my time do receive. And at the same time, remember me. Time at time. My kind voice didn't change. And repete and repete and repete. Again and again. I'll have good moments in my live, everyday of my live. My short life. And they'll be all mine.

I was so fool in apologize. You helped me to build the new Universe. I keep on with poetry, fighting very hard, day by day. Night by night.

...

The place from I write is calm and simpathy. Much more than that. It be full of Love. But also quiet. A little bit noise. It's a place having kittens. Exciting good ideas and anger controled. This place plays with the danger, with the "problems", with the difficults. Laugh and smile deeply. It's a commom place. A place who borns to joy and pleasure. And new warm feelings. It's a funny great tender house. It's walls comes marked with a stamp saying "Kind". "Gentle" and "almsgiving". It's espace is getting bigger and bigger nights after nights, after morning days.

This country is near somewhere faraway from cold places. Like South Italy neibourhood. And France summer, with people painting with sun collor their naked bodies in "la plage" and "praças". This country is fair. Honesty and there, people work hard. With their plenty heads and soul. Really give their best. And they're always, all the time, having kittens.