The tropics are here
In the yellow curves on the table
And in my pocket.
Banal fruits we give for granted,
Travelled in group
Scared and green
To my table.
Like migratory birds at their first adventure,
Don’t abandon me
In this green forest with hidden lives and rumors.
The sun its high and the heat a curse
For an animal like me
Whose skin is gentle and the soul pale.
With no reference and no voice,
Only a new path is possible
And of already started behind me.