That November evening nothing contained my tears, no bowl to store my tears, my fingers Transparency beautiful ballet. Impossible to continue with this waste, in that drop to nothing. My tears to well in life, I left to mourn, I covered my shoulders with a shawl of sad moments. And not to punish and shut the door behind me.
I walked among the people, seeking a face where shed my tears, but no one found to deserve such a gift. He felt no fatigue, only the heart biting my lungs choking my breath ... I did not know the distance traveled, time spent and I arrived. I would have preferred to meet alone in front of you, Ares beach haven of Coruña, but the loneliness of man is always docked at the sea.
company do not ask, my tears flow spilling searches where a single turnover, kneel in the sand trying to isolate, hide in the shadow of those who tread the sea .
all gray, all transparent, all of November, in a single vessel to sail tends to air their dreams and hope.
When the weight of my tears is the volcano, looked up from the soul and there you are! lonely in tears, like me:
Barca dry tree, you were new fruit,
boat sailing to send dreams,
with care, with maternal distress,
between my tears gear
ask coupled.
fell from my eyes, fell from centuries
pain in the winery.
pour Crying now, fear not collect,
is the pain of the world,
is pain the sea.
sprang from an old ship
looking arrive to another beach.
back to me, back in my tissue,
love will become.
Photographs taken very badly by the way, the exhibition of 15 oil paintings of my sister Carmina.
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