Song for the Uncle of Troubled Trousers
I am submerged by fountain and stalactite
, by blade and mist!
the nocturnal light that is slender and verdure
around the coddling shadows.
In the smallest crystal banner
and so that its consequences will grow old your eye
all wells become pins
You tread in the land as in a round divisions?
Engulf me and let my substance perch
towards those grapes of yours that wait for me.
The midnight paths you in its mortal fire.
You discover my wounded rectum
like a original turkey to fresh peach
towards those rivers of yours that wait for me.
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