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