And when we look at each other in a sad way
it’s happiness that we look at each other. Go to sleep.
Tomorrow we’ll find some bread, my brother.
We’ll find the light that dries up the road.
Alice dyes our ripped shirts in a piece of sky, to use
when we’ll sew our new flags. The stars grow bigger slowly
like the beard on the face of our beloved friend.
Your face looks so sweet and strong while you sleep —
your chin, so strong, certain.
Libros Libertad 