Waltzing
we poured...

The dissemination of bullets seeded the womb of...
the land’s arms opened...

In the metamorphosis of formation
shapes ache to attend to their final cause...

I am happening
as I look at my watch...

Space is as the result of our disunion
the scatter of our holy communion...

Lets conspire with this pavement
against our distances...

It was always drilling in his brain,
_the woodpecker of the clock...

This is the time
to say goodbye to sobriety...

Thus,
whispered an hourglass in my ears...

It makes no sense:
Who does play the music...

Mirrors shy away when I look at me
I think in me one could never...

What a hug-less night!
what infectious cruelty...