:::

 

Now that chaos has practiced 

long enough in the beds of desires

and should greet from queues and gray widows

and sorrow cries shadow oceans

and sorrow cries shadow oceans

when columns of smoke measure in swirls

the sound of columns twist

and speechless we walk over the chasm arm in arm

naughty immortal being in a sneeze

oh, fine flawless necks

so long to breathe through

drops of emptied islands scream and shine

die every time they ask

die every time you cry yourself empty.