The disbrief of the stars
Comes down to establish an unbalanced heretical light
A new captivity of every small reflected pieces that emigrates, nevertheless,
from over there where there is nothing.
Choosing would be easy,
For this is the place where the tops spin even though they know that they will
stop
And where another asymmetrical light,
Also a captive of what does not exist
Cannot find the heart to go away and keeps splitting things,
Taking them down like fruit that has smuggled itself up into a tree.
Can one construct an embrace out of two left arms
Or will its odd conclave remain left handled?
Probably even one would be enough if there were something to embrace.
