The Clavichords of Silence
Everything is silent, and silence is good only when
it hides joy inside it. Otherwise, I’m afraid of it.
LE
the sperm
of wolfmen
burden
the stirring wheels
of the horizon
they throw
fiery flutes
under
the bloodied dresses
that hang
in the thick branches
of trees
they choke
the crows
in the mirrors
justice
and the compassion
of the kids
however,
I place red flowers
in her hair
I stand
erect
and naked
in the purple
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