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mi alma va revestida en cosas magníficas
melancolía, azul era
hermoso
el olor del se levantó tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
el solo puño apretado levantado y alista
cuál guarda
en todas las cosas no habladas de
una pluma del acero
me preguntan donde he estado
éste es el arsenal
un cielo que nunca ha sabido el sol, la luna o las estrellas
cuando voy de nuevo a la tierra
el pasar a través de las paredes amontonadas y feas
placeres mediados de y palacios aunque podemos vagar

 



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