I Believe That Icarus Was Not Failing

Our Heart Wanders Lost In The Dark Woods. Our Dream Wrestles In The Castle Of Doubt. But There’s Music In Us. Hope Is Pushed Down But The Angel Flies Up Again Taking Us With Her.

We Must Unlearn The Constellations To See The Stars.

Duende I Can't Remember Her Name. It's Not As Though I've Been In Bed With That Many Women. The Truth Is I Can't Even Remember Her Face. I Kind Of Know How Strong Her Thighs Were, And Her Beauty. But What I Won't Forget Is The Way She Tore Open The Barbecued Chicken With Her Hands, And Wiped The Grease On Her Breasts.

It Is Convenient For The Old Men To Blame Eve. To Insist We Are Damned Because A Country Girl Talked To The Snake One Afternoon Long Ago. Children Must Starve In Somalia For That, And Old Women Be Abandoned In Our Greatest Cities. It’s Why We Will Finally Be Thrown Into The Lakes Of Molten Lead. Because She Was Confused By Happiness That First Time Anyone Said She Was Beautiful. Nevertheless, She Must Be The Issue, So People Won’t Notice That Rocks And Galaxies, Mathematics And Rust Are Also Created In His Image.

What We Feel Most Has No Name But Amber, Archers, Cinnamon, Horses And Birds.