Just in case you could be wind

 Just in case you could be living wind of the walls of the hidden orchards. There each fire of hunger is reflected as a shadow on the white lime stained with mud that the splashes of rain leave behind. Stone locks. Someone put each stone one by one with his rickety fingers of dry bones. Mud shoes. Faded gray or brown. Inside, the crooked fingers straighten, with effort, at each step on the extensive and inferior hardness of the skin.

Palimpseste sur painting. Mirror Sub-Irrealism. Random intratextuality.