Risen from the stream of stars
The dust of the cosmos in your belly
Words full of poems
Lush and fat golden cows
Insatiable, silent
Children of the sandstorm
War of notes and stamps
The blood-red seal

Your life is an invention
And so you awaken
In the soul of an invention
Helpless and raging
****** and reeking
Head into the wall
Forehead against glass

Shard dust
This day is made of glass
Red, vast, built from many inventions
Shaped by your wishes
By the wishes of those who remained
Who have stayed
On the day of inventions
Week of the breathing ones
Month of euphoria
Years are thus milked
On the day of inventions
To cool your bleeding forehead
To heal your rage
To still your search

You are good, and I love you
I love you dearly
Electricity crackles between us
From the gardens of arrival
Here, trees bloom blue

Below, a clear stream
From the earth to the stars
And back
Into your shining gaze
For your light
On the day of the inventions