I laid my eyes on a wind tree
stroking its trembling bark and leaves.
I see the sun like a heart
with saps in the roots and bubbling in the blood,
with hot longing and ripped fruit.
The sky with a shadow of clouds above
is trying to flee south.
Lured by the smell, as foxes,
the moments press on my forehead and go.

The days have fighting afternoons
where we fight for your leg
fallen in love with fragrant flowers and herbs
until it trips
and both on our knees
we stretch over the damp shadows,
the words fall in love, as well.