It is better if you pass through my world like a breeze, like the language of rustling when wind moves leaves. Then I will feel I am not alone, that my separation is a ripe fruit and a road. Then I will be aware and accepting of the autumn inside me. I will rejoice in the yellowish color of the leaf I become, I will not fear the fall or the journey of the wind that abducts me, that wind without a country.

Artwork Details

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