Embalmed, you were
very difficult. Life has ignored you.
So what was the big pain?

Theoretically, the dead
man walks. You will not become
Newton. The apples are still falling.

The Greeks want to
be born again. Life is a challenge. You
have to climb the Himalaya like Sysyphus.

Somewhere a pin
drops in pitch dark. The deity
appears incognito, rising from dust.

I was dying for
your truths after separation from
myself in a disturbing moment.

Grave danger was for
eternal lovers, like swans, would
fight sincerely to die.

Sitting in a wake
you don't feel peace. The vigil
has a buzzing sound.

No benefit comes.
Your fingers speak for the broken
faith. Where gods sleep?

The candles in the wind
were blowing up at the bank
of the river, which had dried up.

Like snowflakes, you
fall on me to understand love.
I sit on a toadstool to write a poem.

When I think of stars
you want to know me to sit on the
grass, to filter the truth of pain.

A torch misbehaves,
when the sun dips and the moon
refuses to rise. Milk was not milk.

Put on hold your pain,
outside our love Your tears fall on
my hands to become flowers.

I go to the milk tree to
pay back my debt. You rub my arm
gently. I shed my negatives.

Paradigm? Man says
ghosts live. A snake never leaves
her eggs. My poems remain intact.

To divide the absolute
I have broken my arms. No enlightened
thought grieves. I shut my eyes.

It was a majestic fall.
I am reading myself in dark to discover
my fire in the sands of time.

I will start a new life,
cutting one by one, all the masks to
see the stigmas of the moon, who smiles.

You suffer, nothing
comes to your mind. Like you are fondling
your wounds lying in a tomb.

I will not steal your
face after the disaster of losing faith
in the religion of power.

I will not stop kissing
the red flames of bargain. The tears
will decide, no mausoleum will be made.