And so I\'ll be gone, but at least I came!
The day was too long for the man who died.
No reflection was found in the mirror shield of birth; - flesh without fire sought,
He lives between the paradigms of shame.
Thanks to a snub, she lifts the divine curse! ...
Alone, he laughs naked in the streets.
Like the Greek texts he launched, nothing can be seen.
Electrical residues of viscera!
Anvils, droplets of fire; — The will to transform lamp posts into flowers without words!
Numbers and colours; — Eternal visions swivel impedance\'s, provoke oracles, creating a world without history, without the rhythm of impulse.
Music that boils clouds on the cradles of the cliffs!
Cones and repetitions; — Flesh without sound, the mask of the effigy disguised as a rainbow!
I watch dead poets follow the chime
Of a pink rose bursting into fractals at noon -
They are so close, I can never touch them!
Endless lives, sages plump with respect, jesters harassing nature, her children and her womb; - the divine supremacy blinding the flocks is no more than the impatience of children laughing like giddy elves, though not quite alive, on the anvils, collapsing under vines issuing the illusion of liquid in dreams, the limit of the flood reached before Dawn; - without compromise, the causation of impatience buries our face in Aztec swamps, the prayer which is no more than the swiftness of life, the will to continue what has never begun.
I find myself earlier, always!
And when he left, nothing else came...