45*21

it is hard to talk about the masculine/feminine
person as we rest shaded notes
filigree under the nails.
There is a murder going and we don't know why.
A sky full of enigmas
Cancer is what they call the disease that ends so much life
This sign and the end of time
These brilliant red flowers begin to grow
The walker and the passer by
Snake together in the illusion of the great divine
We wrestle with small chords in a run
and gather up the cables that make the whole unwind
leaf whispers
granular earthquakes of morning cereal
until the disappearance of revealing light
This, which brings the smoke
It is sliding to the inevitable slide
of equivalence nature