When the curtain falls,
the puzzled instinct inherits
the confusion of clouds.
The beleaguered moon goes into a rage.
Hungry vultures start a wait
for the fall of a titan,
stimulating the sun to exhibit
the trove of the golden rings.
Go blackberries,
with bloody roses into the dawn.
Whole night our bones had gone crazy.
Flickering like stars
on the lake of speechless body.
All his life he was searching for the windows
to let in the fire for burning up the boots.
