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Translation
Island
I'm combing my feet
while months go by
The water in tiptoes
mixture of sand and fishes
I want to be ready for the world
if there's a world ready for me.
I'm an island out of myself
don't pick me up
I'm an island out of oneself
a great glass burning:
Where the sea is mirror of the sun
where the sun is mirror of the sea
and I clear myself
and I clear myself
begore January starts
and everything starts again.
I'm combing my feet
caring for moons and corners
The water in tiptoes
beats a pearl in the heels
Diazepan Medina✕
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