so
before I return home
gotta fell alone
I got that vision of your body sight
with another body,
sight:
feelings I ve left gone
since ago
since now
Im gonna have some fun
no money, no more pills
Im by myself
In this park howl
in this play-ground
Gonna have some fun
guess the music has no ending time
But
no more candys
I roll a cigarrette
con el fulgurio de los fugaces frisfeses de los devenires
de la sucesión inminente de las cosas
I guess I´m the owner of my emotional sleeping thoughts
and every sunny home- returning feeling glimpsy
taking the bus,
soft sunny morning
of the endless autumn sorrow
thats why everything´s so green here
resplandecen los espectros verdes reflejados
en las gotas que resbalan en el plactum
de las hojas nacientes
Todo muere en inviernos violentos
Y renace brillante
Glimpsy way back home
approaching the pain and the misery of the will of the souls
trusting more
in the softness and
deepness
of the continuing progression of the contun-dance existance
should I maybe, get a little bit closer
Should I, maybe
get a little bit more slide
atravieso un bosque, me siento seguro
me siento cansadx
escalo las ruinas de los estruendos de las bombas de la binaria,
partición del lenguaje
el descenso es sencillo, I'm always in the right place, with the right people
and they keep telling me stories that I´ve already known
yesterday,
some friend
will be talking me about that dreamy sorrow
recorriendo los bosques observando la luz esclarecerse entre las salvias
verdes
and that´s how
dindn´t mind consequently I´ve arrive
I´m crossing,
by this time
and somehow as soon as I stay here that´s where I am
that´s how we become the image of the future
Astra* espacio celeste
Somehow I figure out how to hear the deepness sorrows
of the voices
cosmism disrupting the waves of the presence,
Emancipate the posibilities of the never minding
somehow you dare, returning home one sunny afternoon, full drunk, disrupted, getting the hotter, the simple mistic of the blue fosforent fire
get risk of that sensation
just line feeling the soft sun one winter morning, percibing the the warmy, the green grows, slowly, certain. and the birds raising and the man riding his bike down the sun,
And the cars running way down, faster as my thoughts, as my wisdoms.
