It was a broken lamp,
the orphean tragedy...

Not a single word added today
to my tinsel book. The brown eyes...

Hoisting the bisexuality
on a figurine...

On your face the shadow of a transparent wound
bungles the capricious climate...

After a long time, I heard them again:
peacocks...

The sludge overtakes the sane
euphoria.A barefoot caravan...

Black livers?
Are you really desperate...

The hawk was landing.
Squinting at the urgent need...

After the puppet show,
the nest was calling...

Was that a non-devil effort
to hide the language...

An unusual melody,
a reticent antiquarian...

Perfect bridges for a fading light
taking you to dark caves...