Old Women Can See Through Walls.

I Was Lucky Enough To See With My Own Eyes The Recent Stock-market Crash, Where They Lost Several Million Dollars, A Rabble Of Dead Money That Went Sliding Off Into The Sea.

Today In My Heart A Vague Trembling Of Stars And All Roses Are As White As My Pain.

In Our Eyes The Roads Are Endless. Two Are Crossroads Of The Shadow.

Death Laid Its Eggs In The Wound

I Sing Your Restless Longing For The Statue, Your Fear Of The Feelings That Await You In The Street. I Sing The Small Sea Siren Who Sings To You, Riding Her Bicycle Of Corals And Conches. But Above All I Sing A Common Thought That Joins Us In The Dark And Golden Hours. The Light That Blinds Our Eyes Is Not Art. Rather It Is Love, Friendship, Crossed Swords.