Poems

Hands in the Water of the Mind

 The water of the mind     has filled with forms.
The water, like smoke,     transforms and hides. 
 
Come, come closer now,    elusive as
an anemone or a jellyfish     a criminal, a saint; 
 
dip your hand in and pull    from the tormented water
angles and profiles,         an incessant music, 
 
the murmur of the sky,     the mouth of the earth, 
the crown of the breeze,     the rings of fire, 
 
the bodies of the lynxes,     the wings of the bat, 
the glasses and the pillow,     the brightness of hunger. 

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