Monday, April 6, 2009

Egg White Mucus Image



Far beyond my window,
morning clouds are a flower
that has been born to a train.

A clock becomes in crab
And the old layer gives
With a storm of termites.

Far beyond my window
Algodones pretended to be a garden
Pending April. Then I go

Dripping
eyes that light of infinity, And when I need

A dog, a cane, one hand, a faith.

And you spend playing the soft silence
cold and blind, I sentence you to appoint
everything now do not know.

Far beyond my window
My hope was playing at a flower garden
A,


As expected in April.

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