Remitting toast among the shadows that turn and vanish on the foliage Leaving the applause of a butterfly in unison Hardening time Iconoclasts. Is fed up Be swinging suspension bridge When no Comedians Vacant students Occasion lovers Trapeze artists Yes. In the float There are your further hugs In the cemetery is you Thalamus in perpetual erection Where it does not stop Neither the shipwreck nor the submerged gaze There are many who would not like Back to the dressing room tremolar Not even naked from the scene
127 THE RISE OF THE BUDDHIST PIG When the rise of the Buddhist sucker Celebration Intertwined to the rhythm of craving and the most swallowed Preening for passion and roosters Whispering his promises to the heights Awakening the end of the aphrodisiac hours. The pig about to explode Hitch bucking over there You don't seem to understand your situation He gets ready for his delicious sucker shroud.
