Rimbaud on his boat
Screamed: Earth Remember!!
And before sinking
Saw a million of golden birds
Thus, the line
Goes
Geometrizing my soul
With a blue mathematic
When your blue line calls me
My soul is flooded by
Like a window in the sun
The stream of life fills Washington streets
But all I want
Is to be the blood flowing all day
In the inextricable maze of your skin
How many are like me
Hiding under a cloak worn by the wanderings
Their wrinkled wings?
How many are like me
With a lack hidden by thousands words?
The green seems gray to me
Only the blue survived
And your hands
Holding me like Montaigne
Painted the passages of my soul
And even if I read Flaubert
Even if he assures me that the immensity
Has no conclusion
I remember
The “Vayéchev”
In your arms
And all your flowers with some scientific names
That I don’t know
Remind me the face of Ophelia
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