We’ll go on living despite the intrusion.
Appreciative of your glance in my direction, the chiaroscuro
of moments, cast me in the role of son,
to the patriotic television is most painful,
I am now able to sit and calmly watch the screen,
let’s not forget that intellectual fever,
fetish of distances
bewildering silks.
Flambé vigilante, try the surface
disconfidence of illumination:
Culture wears shades.
And all at once, vultures arose,
jellyfish reality
completely dismantled.
Visit my outer space
and I’ll visit your self-preoccupied garden.
1 comment:
The reader is an intruder. Love is an intruder. This nation is a thief of its own home.
As we dance with what is us within the framework of status quo, we fall but with muted hope still reach for one another's hand.
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