She pours water in its feet.
When she dances with her flames
puts out of her mouth
the tired heart.
...
the hand slips(in the love things
the same hand that it dries the tears) and
to do to explode the silence
the hand(that invents new rhythms
...
Picasso gives us Things
which disorganize our eyes
The lines fly parallel
but later they break away
...
The lines produce
the simple things
the world
Its lines are not
...
Man and bull disarm
one another
bodies touch
as arrows
...
«Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands»
e.e.cummings
...
We wait for to cross the crowd
on the beach, we cross arms
photographic legs, breasts
raised for the fire of the beauty
...
I like what you're trying to do –
this one
is a few drafts away from
...
Dying/Is an art, like everything else.
Sylvia Plath
...