While the body decomposes,
it keeps going but it decomposes,
the heart, which is the center where life goes wrong most,
the heart, that beautiful little pump, decomposes,
and while the heart decomposes,
by simple instinct of survival,
it keeps turning into stone and does not decompose.
In this way, among the many stones that I keep
and that I picked up with Rocio on the beach,
the stoniest of them all is the one that decomposes,
the one I take everywhere while I may live,
and which perhaps I was given by my parents
when they saw fit to love each other.
And it decomposes and it doesn't.