Fernando Delgadillo Miscellaneous .
Immersed in my work,
I clean the other side,
and this is my best cloth,
what shine it manages to make.
From a pale gold old,
even a whip of sun,
from a discreet opaque
to the subsequent cloudy
to play as I please
like a bee in the garden,
of the moon of my endless mirror.
I keep in the enchanted room
my main window,
a world that no one comes to touch,
land of illusions, of dream and perhaps,
kingdoms that no longer long to be named.
I know the substances with which they are made
the dreams that will always be
and I know the words with which you will wake up.
I know how to retrace my steps
in pursuit of what is gone
or fly where I will never see.
Moon of my sad nights,
moon of my vanity,
moon of my life, of intimate clarity,
contrivance of chance, mirror of my heart,
you taught me to see from your prison.
I inhabit the interior
of the mirror where everyone who composes and poses, for him, will stop his time.
I know about myself labor,
that of playing in time
and my cloth knows how to do better than glitter.

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