My Sanctuary is born in my body

Stands in the hollow of my knots

Draw on the dead leaves

Where words do not resonate anymore.

My sanctuary path is sawdust,

Leaves no mark

The rain suspends its past, whispers the unreal.

My Sanctuary has no door,

No meetings

And burns all notices.

My sanctuary has no clocks

Is far from the roads

Isolated from all satellites

Its useless nights don’t indicate any future.

My sanctuary does not need ornament

It shuts all the voices

Carries a hundred of lost stones.

My sanctuary has deep shadows

drawn from empty labyrinths

Look straight in the face.

My sanctuary is indissoluble

Builds a glass wall against which ladders are set up,

Stops all persistent thresholds,

Turns faults back to the rigid line,

Frees itself from the horizon,

Makes the earth flat again.

My sanctuary hides the view

Says inaudible secrets

Rejects all lies.

My sanctuary does not like crossing

Pours a concrete that never harden

Turns to the lost heights

Brings my wildest hopes

Defeats all wars.

My sanctuary gradually makes me disappearing

Until total absence

Beyond the conceivable which carries me away.

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