Among the rumors of the gulls the bells – the voice of the call from the wilderness to this light incarnated in the word of the morning; gentle wings that split the sky from darkness. How much love born of You, O Lord! I am terrified by her power when, from tears over the tree
The rumors of the gulls Read More »
the silence of the church shrouded in the palms hidden in the night of the plain cold flowers among voices of the angels bow their light in the word that I write before your journey with the Puzzlement of the Magus of places and time. Only the star as a sign of the end leaves
The Sign of Your Way Read More »
The child’s whine Disturbing At the making of the world, covered By Mother’s palms comforting dew over the destiny, the plague each night the light of each day witten without rest in the dusk of prayers.
Oh my past, I will join my hands so that I can finally drink at the sun cup to never meet you again finally I can loose you in empty buildings in the thick morning fog in the sick eye of the white stone where rests the mystery dream and some detail in my being
If I come to look for you Read More »
The wait long invasive incidences of Advent it is the enchantment of the new light and from that time the gaze transpires Advent of distant stories of new tenderness, of silent fluids of stones in the magic of foliage It waits suspended the advent of autumn and the wind is silent in the arms of
Strumentum scribendi Read More »
You are my little Buddha I turn you from sleep to light drawing in the firmament the dream of you sunflower of beautiful loves Leonardo, little Buddha and I’m happy grandma I dance with you until dawn tumbalalaika at the time, tin tin tintan from da-da-re Leonardo ta-ta-ta I play with your silver fingers on
You see a granulated shame on the blonde children’s spike. From out of the lowland an odor of invisible lilac obscures our tiny sun. Flowing over the houses and terraces it perches in my voice. Flexible poison hemlock of my voice, multi-colored poison hemlock of my voice. And an ivory fragment stretches towards the birds:
KISS ME FIRST, THEN GIVE BIRTH TO ME Read More »
sometimes i want to jump and live in the jungle of Lam not in this one, where only matters yes you wear Nike or the land of some town hidden in the nails. sometimes the look is confused with a cinematographer and no one answers. you shout: lights, camera, blackout. you know that next
And the sea insists, fishermen sift themselves for the new season and the virgin combs her hair on the horizon, summer, already mature, sits like an old woman ready to take over, in the meanwhile she dreams behind its fan with the wheat-colored sky, tears in a glass of wine ignite a song louder than
Like an autumn comma Read More »
They rotated very slowly, her eyes, in the loop of the speech. They were softly eclipsing in the most friendly eyelids, if the word attentive, natural left out the most immediate sense. It threw its light, on the back of the celestial, the rose, silk threads on natural threads, unsuspected signs on the warp. English
