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A horizon: the sky

flirting with the infinite.
're already lost in the dream
behind the glass eye.

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prime-age

arise from manure see
ch'un flower buds just before

of dry

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ornithic thought

Sembravan
vultures but they were sparrows,

wrapped in this era will seem.

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Sailors out of

With the desire to sail the sea,
to look at while you are watching,
with the sun in your eyes and imagine
to be the only one to go forward.
With Dirty Faces by salt,
emotions
caked in her hair swaying with the wind and his blow.
But the world is at the bottom of an ocean of marble
with too many captains and a few sails ...
silence seems the last frontier of
a remote island they see in dreams,
by gunfire but wake up every day
this sea of \u200b\u200bno return.

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Escape circular

I think you missed a good part of your teeth, chewing with mouth closed

between the smiles of the family.

Com'è
vigilant that crow you see from up there, if you turn

suddenly flies off and is gone.

And as the clock runs,
you look at it and do not see it as a ghost

without history or a story without heirs.

rags and a bit 'of dreams,
slam the door and run away,
down the stairs and a corridor to a room
prison.

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Sighs night

Son
long nights on the edge of too many rooms:
and experimental aspects,
between tears and smiles, that
your thoughts on the feathers
close dancing.

Shamans

make your dream a necklace,
then go away.


What remains of all those pearls?
The vague memory of the blue sea
drowned hills
of certain people.


Drinking wine or his deputy,
feel far
what is at hand.

Talking to the wind themselves,

hear the wind and takes away.

Give me four drops of eye drops
madness of my life.

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Son of skin,
not like flowers or violets
road, but I cry to the stars

with the first and remains the only
dew.

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If only the summer will take away the flowers now
born:
women love, sweet madness

dreams blossomed.

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Fragility

its first fresh

remains the whore and her court dress, a peach flower

s'accascia
and hovers over a bed of death.

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The breath of wind is heard your

You lose the look of rippling waves,
hopes faded, and some memory
;


and night falls and the rises anger, on the dry sand

someone desperate.

A woman's face, so the rice

quand'all'improvviso
got up the skirt.

A dog that runs, with the wet blanket


pursues only the time passing by.

If what I feel

smile off his face looks a good
the wind blowing.

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soon as I take the cowardly blackmail
cold your eyes,
s'infuoca
the scene of a world destroyed
dark banner. The moment before


ch'il
sky collapsed on land dried binder

the top and clear your pots
vine fished.


The wind picks up a baby laughing and pointing his finger
,
mother crying barefoot
notes
your last cry.