cuadernos tibetanos

Oh, imaginary bone of our desert That weights more perhaps Than water in the skin Of a boiling time Morning, that curveous lady, Nothing to regret here The sun displacing Every sensible argument As it happens, there was A ghost of a moon Dangling in the sky last nite Kissing Goosebumped buildings A sort of ancient itching Of some ticklish void, maybe Naked uncertainty At the tip of the tongue Or something

El hueso del desierto imaginado Pesa más que el agua en la sangre Del tiempo que hierve Nada que disculpar a la mañana Desplaza el sol cualquier argumento Sensible Ocurre que hay fantasma de luna Por la noche Y apenas cosquillosa incertidumbre

Oscuro alivio de piedra sin deseo