Dins aquest iglú

It's my desert, always my desert,
the flowers are daisies.
A white sun, houses, oceans, the seaweed is marine.
We close our eyes, imagine total darkness and silence.
Open space, even the sky, are infinite beaches.
The most primal nutrients, brutal lack and defect.
Things are not easy for anyone inside this igloo
so thawed, so long,
so full of endings, so deprived of you.
It's my desert, always my desert,
they're cacti, they're thorns.
A white sun, vegetal figs, the plants mean.
Things are not easy for anyone inside this igloo
so colossal, full of confusion,
so much freedom, so much magnitude.