If those gray highways
That you have traced in my chest
They drove to the kingdom of the flowers,
If this autonomous bubble
That you inserted me inside
Will navigate in another artery,
If that galleon of desires
That you made succumb in my coast
Has shipwrecked in another sea,
This is like fighting
Against your mills of petals
To fly against the rose of your winds
It is to swim against the currents
To the pointers of the clock,
To rotate contrary and without astrolabes
In the sea of your Sargasso.
For that reason today,
That nobody tries to convince me
Of my resolution,
I have decided
To throw away your life
And to take off my death.
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