Forgiving. In thoughtful, first-person, net, in the rough. I do not know if you can forgive. If anyone knows how to forgive, if someone really understands the corners of the verb, that verb. Just type in your notebook quiet cat looking at the word rebuilding, restarting believe the word, support your back tense last over the back, close your eyes with his hand on a frozen glass of juice, cold relief, watch them playing chess for hours of silence while he draws them, it gets dark at eleven. Just enjoy the calm, she stopped a moment and write "Reconstruction" in blue ink then everything goes back to the point before. Like an animal, all this is moving like an animal who does not know, step up, fear, forward, back again and even further, to the point before the previous point. Then there are the dreams. A tissue near the eyes, people surrounding a body, the fear that wakes you up the phone and do not know if the phone wakes you up or is part of the dream and the animal does not move forward. Te questions if there would be enough to forgive, with a tinted balm, do not know what balm, pass by the temple, the arms, around the elbows, each of the breasts, the English, to reach the feet. Forgiving with that balm, to forgive all, believe in the light we see and do not want to believe, not to mourn on the rides of the woods, sad dream bodies around another body, have the courage to move forward regardless. Perhaps no more have the courage to resign. Suddenly do not know if all that is missing is the courage of his resignation.
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