The astronomy of a liquid mind
Like a leaf of the last magnitude
burned by distant colors
It will reassemble you
and the vulgar herd that forks us into the infinity
with shoulders of champagne
We are left behind on the white earth
Like a doll that opens and closes its eyes
to the plants
I’ve made a census of the stones
by immense barometric roots
amazed of the time of any childhood story
Of strange figures, to born and to disappear
all of the demands to be felt
without ever appearing
We still know the passwords
the three part shadow of troubled sleep
and the comet who comes to nest at midnight