I lower the jets of the chandelier, throw myself on the bed, and turning toward the dark, I see you
May it come, may it come, The time when love astounds us
Arriving from always, you’ll go away everywhere
What witch will rise up against the white sunset? What purple flowers are going to descend?
We have faith in the poison
I don’t miss what I once possessed of divine happiness
blueness, delirium And slow rhythms under the streaking of daylight