On the streets, in the squares, from the balconies,
near the port:
all our perimeter was a huge barricade
(and we recorded everything because we were scared).
The sea was a natural retreat,
and the surrender was an unthinkable thing:
much blood had been shed,
to spoil with a white flag
(to avoid losing custom, we released a few laughs, barefoot,
crossing ourselves at regular intervals.
And then nothing, just silence).