hidden from me what in hair
In the loop, in turn spirals.
In the lobby of my fingernails
In the glow of the night breathing
pillow In winter, the knife blows
The pen falling slowly.
In me second, minute and hour, perhaps,
with sublime failures
The skin with its warmth full of lavender,
Vanilla jasmine and roses unintentionally.
The timing of the silence broken into a thousand shards of ancient beads
The melody of my shadow dancing at dawn
Awakening scratching the moon eyes
Threading voices worn memories.
De vos implicit, unseen, the everlasting, blind to other
The motion imperception your hours
Madness, the courage, honor and delirium
The historical remembrance of steps and missteps
The chimera, the burning, eyes eternity
yours from me, which is also my
your From my sunshine, my Earth and Mars,
the lake is blue Virgin River
The fullness of that canyon without steps.
From me your voice, your half-light and light only sometimes
The reason, a flight, the hesitation in waves
Your stubbornness, the lean, kick
of you, mine, this distance, the quiet calm
The vast and overwhelming, the flame
What indivisible, atom, clock
The positron with its electron
Years ...
And this gray existence, sometimes tacit
hopelessly of sunset yellow.
