104. THE NUMBERS

Stopwatches in a row To make you drop your time Machine-gunned In the trap of deception; Newspaper Lost in waiting As if there were no In the sand the shore And the return from the other shore, With its waves and its probability Infinity preceded Of nostalgia For His flight, To turn his face, Impassive and modulated. To each divided, By himself, Only what remains The leap into the void As a vehicle Or as attractor, actuator In all interactions and differences Levels: in light, radiation, Quaqueros strength and the electro-weak Uncertainty In the womb of the world everything has indeterminate so too probable overcomes certainty and security the shower receives the power fear chokes hope again.

Suns face in the compass hand; The hosts of eclipses; And the negative of the reflection; In the entourage of the messenger hosts From space; In the model and temple of the eternal alchemist. In the Link Stabilizers; Tearing, sowing, contouring. The dinner fell silent and sighed, the undulation of the verb In its perpetual bosom.

In the sun in his fatherly shadow, Drawing his way in silhouette, Between mirrors sharpen the edges until Burn the ships, From the chill, to cylinder the bitterness of The war, drink it by dipping it In the tumbler's tumbler. Pulleys lighten choking With the counterweight of suffocation; From the hollowed out hordes. Ephemeris of their own destiny In the bluish sphere Sea and tidal. The enclosed walls already reflect it Concave, Like the mirrors of the swelling Cadaveric, Returned to the shore with their collection Amortized from lust and gluttony. Eternal return to your belly and shape. But the scream In smaller cloths, They will float it back, In the tub of immensity, That in an oversight spilled.