Shy, stark naked under the dreams of heaven
the sun plays with its wings
cautiously with
proud, pink, plastic, waves
singing by its face.
Sly owl eyes the softened murmur it
gently spins in the breeze, and
nights seem less heavier with its
lusty stories.
Through the secret window, unfastening
the roots, a girl, a goddess,
a tigress flows.
When it looks at me with a pupil
golden, the nerves sick,
the lost spine, my limbs suck its
enormous shadows.
Let the eternal wait see an end.
Let this bride see a true spring.
