All in a moon's night

She's got tired of this Sun, too: she comes to bath her feet on the Moon.

When she's tired of seeing her reflex on her sex mirror, she becomes so clear that she becomes... no one.

Her eyes observe a tree

the branches reach the Throne of Lucifer, Lord of the subterranean metals, who is in Heaven

and the stars rain from the cosmic theatre on her dead fear, like souls of daughters born in the night of the sky.


She summoned the name of Gabriel, then, that German angel of war and milk
Gabriel, he, who is always dressed in white wool and whose eyes are orange hypnos, maybe umbilical.

The arrival of the winged celestial being occured at 2 AM
his wings were huge
his feet were like wheels
the tall Gabriel opened his mouth, and spoke in this fashion:

"Oh! Stop thinking, woman, something in your gardens still calls for you relentlessly

in the gardens of yourself...

but your mind is tranced, like a jungle clogged with tapirs.
One day is today, and all days are one: blessed be this wind, can you feel it?

Can you feel this divine wind, silvery, like a screen?
If you don't let yourself go with this wind now

you will never do it.   

Just don't let your love turn into an old medal forgotten on a shelf

because 
anything that is there unused, is going to fulminate us."

As the angel of the living ones said this, he disappeared flying toward the East, invisible, like this text
like the android of Indochina in the typhoon, and, oh horror ..! 

The Sun inverted its path and ascended from the West?




I guess she's got tired of this Sun, too: she comes to bath her feet on the Moon.