Your chandelier with great
free breath blew in ahead of the events

Don’t tell me the beach over there is black
I am certain of nothing but

the dust of our procession
the statue by the waterfall
in the fluorescent grotto
where the snakes are now replaced by tigers

Even your fruitfulness is in it

I stand in the world indifferent

We should go to the gazebo
It is covered in ice
and little pieces of paper

The basilisk inside our dreams
is dancing on the air

The library splits open
I am left in a lurch

You walk a gentle slope to the east