136.OH MEA CULPA (TE)SPORTATION1

In the morning Oh mea culpa (teletrasportation1)

Singing to the sound of the palms

And West Indian hips Sharpened by the waves.

eternity You should have been in the autumnal squares of

Veil your curls with marble So that your hair is pulled out Were blood that He will transfer this earthly agony into a heavenly filigree.

That forever reverse the infinite mercy Of your mahogany crown and woven honey sting By lusts and poisons of the Sanhedrin. Helm of your proverbial and effulgent sobriety. When you run lightly,

v Slow, Gray. Black mirror To flatter Dizzying spark from somewhere deep down, After the scene, corrosion and catastrophe Shield, attraction, wave, grace, antillean happiness, Bambalina, party and celestial pulsar nimbado.

And instead of your bleeding heart Of pain, delirium, fever and mild sadness. An uprooted, fresh, wise and unfading transfiguration

Impenetrable Spectate, look at it, track What was left, the seven full baskets. For some the sky cracking with rays For them Dawn of fireworks with sparks, For the one who has been awake With empty hands.

Never, the one who takes Never, the arrogant one who passes, The one who evicts.

There another, here another Harmonic forced oscillator between the two Waiting winged With the ribbon of thorns peeking out of the eyelashes, In his flight with his breath and breeze wiping the tears from all faces.

hubbub and now between, the two mountains the old panic accompanying the screaming revolted and torn

Not easy to think, against the price. And here always the placido will start on this other mountain With the open book the veil that covers all peoples, the canvas spread over all nations, It will annihilate death forever.