Astro no my

The clock struck thirteen when moondrops were inferred in the blackvault

I saw you out from the hiding place
and you were like oïl and uranophobia on a madman's face

in that moment I knew that your promises tend to fly away
like your bodily electricity, entangled in the four winds bar.

Then I named you Carri Dear, and I summoned you under this trigon that never warms

and it's never said at all in the map that you carry
two doors locked [though one'd let you in]
aside the clock there, behind the mirror you know.


And all things considered, and all memories burned and barren
under the blue pyramidion-cielo

hellish glare for these sepulchral dreams of mine and yours
and all things considered.




Then you named me Invisible, and you erased me under that glassy chasm which enraged escapes

and it's never guessed at all in the way how Boreas blows
or the convexity of Desdenova in the nocternal panic
how parallel to our hated days is your congealed stare.


And all things abandoned, and all memories encrypted and incinerated
under the vitreous aphelion

nightmares & miracles through the dream of the astrolabe
and all things abandoned.

























Astronomy... a star.