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.