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A few centimetres from my navel,
where innocence is torn apart,
a hidden world cries out without shelter,
whispers secrets with indifference.
Echoes of laughter, whispers past,
mingle with shadows of old memories,
where sins, with silent steps,
dance in circles, weave stories.
The blind man tempts in the eternal gloom,
with trembling hands, he searches for destiny,
and I, in this sea of doubts and cerna,
I drown in currents of a divine love.
A few centimetres away, life peeps out,
like a curious child, like a star,
where desire and fear peek out,
playing in the mist, baring the beautiful.
The thirsty consumes its own essence,
in a universe of skin and fire,
and a few centimetres away, duality,
is in every heartbeat, in every plea.