The little girl and the anthill

The little girl watches the earth turn blue
The gray clouds have rings
By dint of travelling the world

In this neighborhood with the wind rolled into a ball
With gusts of wind like paws
She throws a stone, the ginger cat runs away

Above the snowy summit of dust
Of an anthill
A tiny line hurries

To a sugar that she has placed further away
Her gestures have the grace of a paper flower
Alone abandoned in the anthill

Her world becomes blue-grey,
And the back of the insects
Carries her dreams

An angel takes the dust, and the evening will fall
Will no one come to seek
This child with the whitening eyes?

The ants have seen her sweet flesh
They begin a climb
On her neck and her legs,

The ants bury her peach skin
Behind her a woman
Takes her wrist with care;

The house is wrapped in ribbons
One sees neighbors, people
And a flash of lightning that tears the fog

The little girl sitting on the back seat
Waits for the woman to take her away
She spits an ant on her white hand

And with squinting eyes she vows
To disappear under the earth,
To drown her sadness

In the blue night of an ant farm

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