As I fly in the interstices of the imagination
My body trembles resistant to the sober movement of life
As if it wanted to stop, but they are not death images yet
They are creations of life out of time from the physical atony
When mind and body meet each other for a while
The fullness of human experience is shown shyly
And then faint and return to its outter place
In the constant fight for the balance
The lucidity efforts disclose the insignificance of the body
In the space, but all the potentiality of feeding the ego
A simple desire of life is sketched
I just have the impression that I won't die
