I’m a men called to serve to life
under the willing of love.
I’m a man with the strength of silence
making tones of verses to complete
one unlimited universe: the infinite
and remote cosmos of lettered culture.
I’m a single voice of solitude plenty
and lineally climb the surface insight
of times, above all the machinery, my sense
collapsed into memories and pictures.
Once I flew into maritime feelings
but my tongue divide the sun
and my tears arrived to the horizon
making upward the finitude and remain
the figure of anemic bodies and languages.
My boundaries came to flesh and ashes
between monitors of self tones and balads
my scope distinguish smiling hearts and sets.
But my mind reminds all the things we said
last summer and we tried to promise
more than selfishness and bother, more than
timing and mountains of documents.
By my side are tones of sorrow and sexiness images
but my tomb will be described as a full energy
site, as my soul emerge to the sky or the hail I will
surround meanings and signs, in the seeking of territories
of songs and portraits and lovers and sinners:
by who I will demand torrents of smashed images.
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