and now your body, a shack of boards.
mercury eyes interfering with light
of the initial insect.
above us, the balconies filled with wet laundry.
the sky is exfoliating in millions of sheets
which autumn sprays like a confetti rain over us.
behind the public toilet
an old beggar looks into her ragged bags:
bread, milk bottles, few eggs
a machine for manufacturing loneliness
and in the heart, something deep, unbearable.
her big blue eye
it fills us with terror.
Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 2:21 PM UTC