How the windows fall silent the droplet falls at a right angle
- we are all confused - but the book isn't about this
How the wounds fall silent, every dispersion scrapes the patience of olives, and the
boy doesn't apply himself
How the wounds fall silent and moreover no one has seen -no one ever sees- a
deception life that awaits us without generic warnings of danger or sanctity
They fall silent like wounds then they crinkle fold into pockets leap like a tiger
instinctively toward the last surviving man in the shopping mall
They fall silent like windows and you don't recognize the inside from the outside
the glass from the void of air the manual from the instructions
in another language the magic of photo editing
The windows fall silent on the edge of evening in the barycenter of balance between
revealing the secret or enclosing the family within a quiz
How people fall silent
You will never be people neither glue nor nervous lines the autism of self while
deserting from yourself we take note we make a list
Do you put life among useless things?
It falls silent like people where did you vanish? neither how nor why questions in
tables and a layout of nails surnames wobble and mix
Where did you all disappear to?
People how they fall silent or poison themselves dancing and hurl silences into their
ears the important thing is Sunday cleaning the important thing was your lives the
manual of destruction
From the side of the bed you give outlines within every sky that refuses to open
We are slaves to overflowing drawers mounted upside down
slipknots mothballs and a similar date for everyone
The bed on one side the importance of roots -discovery on a bed-
A line bender fake plagiarist inventor
This is the world this is the earth this is the story roots and plagiarisms
Pity traversed us in smaller shoes in the to-do list but where were you all?
The last time within the faint light of phosphorus
Let yourself be embraced by the deceit of forgiveness by the noonday fire in your chest
They've made you a prisoner They've made you
Shattered every encounter from skies so akin to gods yet always queued in the love between cars
and traffic lights
The fire sets the windows ablaze our fertility unyielding filling rooms with open legs.
Perhaps it's not the places it's the objects that tell us never to forgive to endure the unknown of
producing imitation
Let no one be too alive now or erased by us Of all words perhaps gestures will remain maybe cats
Here lies the mistake of emptiness that the mournful foresee tomorrow
but behind us- behind - a beast's hook in the back pierces the chest -the symbol of the news bulletin-
But you cry you cry - surely pretending - and recount the void there in front
They meet in the dark side of halls confusing what is and what you see
What you pass off as pain is merely canned food long-lasting lies
g_-^(+p)=∞g+p=∞
Suddenly the snow the body seeks its way
Had we told each other the truth it would have happened sooner
and we keep on observing the tennis player's secret elbow
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