fur

I do wake the bones up

make it white

polish it with horse-coach's vapour

in those days
when it can't be lifted up
do copulate

the days are passing by
through Arabian words
bodyless body of Magic
It's being seen how far
whose light is now

a hypnotized curse

design

speaking too much
being solitary
from the other globe
has come flying loneliness , of hundred years
silence's reason , anti-reason too
by battling with words
tongue is bloody
the trench wakes up suddenly ; suppose
some disharmony's seen on the horizon
though , at the end of rain series
now is the time for being quiet