The Upper Alleyways

Domestic boredom bird
Possesses you
Draws you behind the visual
The fence’s crows
Your broken roof
And weeds climbing you
From the mouth of the shrines to their extent
The moonlight lowers your dome
For who remains safe from death
From a calm wave on the shore of the heart
To braying skeletons
Birds flew at the funeral in colors of sunset
The visible sea in their wings
Sings all over
From the captives in their blind cells
To the most invasive delirium shrubs
Drag your corpse with a dog’s persistence
Amidst the night and high winds
With the gossip of your senses
And the arms of abysses
And the wrecked trees shading you
Rise a little above the burden and fly
Like butterflies in the kingdom of flowers
Outside the fort of ideas
Outside the gates of the sealed self
Dress the masts of your wild boat
Spread your nets and capture the sea
Under the glimpse of an ancient lightning
Old sailors will escort you
Heads low in their rareness
On the concave floor
Dark angels with disjointed wings
Vault the swords for you
In a shower of meteors
With the transparency offered by the sacred
And laden for hundreds of years
Delighted skull
Touring inside the antique abode
The moon attracts its vines to their peak
Wrapped on the stems of cold rays
How many souls were dumped brilliantly?
And wishes?
For a nightingale forgotten on the twigs
For a sunflower bowing to the sun
Saddle the hills and green meadows
The brightest light is yours
What a beautiful tree
“It was a sun and moon at the same time”
“The Lord himself has spread out for you the distant shores”
Behold, your cave
The drift fever drains you
Snatch tomorrow away from your muddy past
The howling of a crow in your shabby body
The vast terror shrouded by the sky
Return pure as a newborn
Crawl again in your first step
Your summer dad weaves himself
For your nap under a watery willow
Your bones caress your cranium
Your hidden treasures will fall
Your dears and places
Butterflies, larvae, and iris basin
All to their destination
You will not fill ... not even with fog
The millstone of years grinds life
You are the crop
Your Captain sings thunder
For you, “he will regroup the roads”
His angels are “sails standing in silence”
Heading you to trusty shores
All the grace endowed with sublime beauty
Your homeland is your body
And the singing of its birds amuses you
Avid wind decorates your highlands
Carves your rocks and trees
Settlements are addition and erosion factor
Your candle is the sign of existence
This village models your vision
A first vow and a shell that shields you
Your shadow grows and fades in ripple effect
From a jungle harp will be heaven feast
From being only dream he will make you real
Walking in a pink dawn
And in the pages, you find your password