a nihilist like yourself might object
the strategy that
transparently fails to be opaque
when destiny is so much
what we have sought in our speaking
the hidden views
are the ones we should expose
untitled poems shimmer in my head
i've lived in that thoughtful palace
among pillars as white as
Piazzoni's moon
your clouds threaten:
in spanish I think
they're longing for repetition
and confidence is being satisfied right now
betrayal will come later
this cold and the pain doesn't confuse me
it's spring
you move closer
and we talk about the sky
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