Suddenly a rising speech

developed inside me

one stepping way of being.

Without any sense

I build the skyscraper

called my shadow along the distance

of our tongues and I think we are lost

any time of the season that remains.

Unsense this called verse

a single word

regretting the pass of solid continents

above the selfish flesh of sorrow.

One truly love is dying around the corner

because I seek tits and bodies

either hope and bless. So on

I drove my mute instinct to shut down

my mind, anywhere I’ve been

I’ve made a kind of friend:

this solitude is just the ending phrase

into the landscape named my self shouted

to the universe.