A long sigh, an echo of absence
The air is heavy, but it doesn’t fall
Reality is a broken mirror: Each fragment reflects what we choose to see

A point on the horizon, always in motion
The concrete is the invisible: A secret that holds us
An embrace that can’t be seen, but can be felt

A little creature, a tiny heart, beating against fear
Exams, surgeries, the body as a battlefield

Reflection: A cut on the finger, purple blood
The color of mystery, fragile warrior, calm and serious

An excess of care, regeneration as a positive absurdity, absurdity
One week and the skin heals
But the blue remains, a fire that never fades

Blue that burns, blue that is reborn
Fragility and strength, one single place
That secret, our infinite foundation, holds us and makes us fly

The little creature, the heart, the fear, the purple blood, the color of mystery
Reality: A cut that never stops bleeding, but never stops healing either