The storm inside is like the calm before a hurricane...
Is quiet, like an evening under a palm tree,
in front of the sea...
Is like that soft breeze in the ocean that move
the waves back and forth
and increases as the hours pass by...
It is like the quietness of an evening before a tornado hit,
when the sky gets almost green, and you can hear
the sound of the wind...
The storm inside is so quiet,
you can hear it like
the sound of your own heart
or the breathing of your lungs
or your blood pumping
through your veins...
Is so quiet
is scary...like and earthquake
that move the earth beneath your feet
so you breath deep and remain quiet
and alert...like that child
on the closet, hiding from
herself...
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Breaking Water
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