The sonnet of the ravine

...You walked away the day when your legs became long in the austral night.
The big city stared at you for the last time when the riots of May were angular kaleidoscope, colonial eau your days.
Your days.


I think the frost dawns petrified your eyes in those stars that were your own drems.


Your own drems.







---------------------------------------
2:) Another new dawn



...One day I hated you; like humans do.
Your garden of glass and neoprene was Abaddon
and silence.

And oblivion.



And resurrection.





I lost my mind and sat by the ravine: from the heights of the androids of Sion I felt the whales' gyration at once with the mother Earth in neurasthenia.
Eyes, eyes of neürasthenia.


My mental suns' black holes were transferred through television de noche.








The evening of my crucifixion, then, you returned.