In dusk, sunset strips off red dress
Falls eject bodily fluids
The thrill of mountains keeps trembling
Neatly dressed seeds
one after another
resides into sunflower’s disc florets
The woods wearing black gloves hold on to shore
There is no reason not to wait
The thoughts open ventral gray dawn
The Three Musketeers, intercept
a shining boat on the night river
A torch bites the black forest in your body
This piece of liberated music
comes from Prometheus Bound
The huge rubber of the moon
begins to wipe the messy graffiti made by
black wings of night on the lake
and restores this
mirror covered with ash for so long
Despite the wuthering of wind waves
within the hard shell
a soft and fragrant fruit seed
is still intact
The secret untouched by sewage
softly hums a march melody
The asteroid of a firefly
hits the belly of moonlight
Three shadows march out of the navel
Don Quixote, his horse
and his faithful servant