Tiredness III

my fingernails dig trenches on your white milky bosom
so fast that even the light can’t take a closer look
over the night’s icy heart scrapers

I gather all my shadows, put them in old smelly chests
found on the bottom of your joy tears’ ocean
and build houses from their locks
for my deep dark secrets

our kiss lays on the sky’s surface
like a leaf on the lake
brushed by the
wind

the roots glide towards
bloom in extension

we are part of the seed

***

in the morning, in front of my house 2009
angels split in 365 groups were
singing right through my
thorax

in a fibonaccian spiral

each one of the four winged angels was acting
in the same manner as their 12 ribs
that were bloating with
each acoustic vibe

24 is the point we’ve expected so long
for the sun to send us some gold
for the souls that
were hold

by Him

***

the sky turned so blue, the water so cold
our hearts tremendously red

the yesterday’s footprints are not to be seen
but graved in our brains

we act on the scene
with time straight
ahead

the air I breath tastes good