A octavio
Mena and lover of sunsets
invoke you. When pests eat my feet hurt from wandering barefoot, when his saliva covered with vermin stinging my body, when the lips taste the strong smell of martyrdom, when the wind touches my eyes water swamped when the ear is accustomed to strange voices like a beast in its cage, when I crawl in the dust blind pursuit of a single trace of dawn, when the hands want to chime in that castle the enormous bells, I invoke you. Nomad
night you invoke. In the intact nana of frost on the nails start to scratch that last wishes, in the course of blood that reveals his heartbeat, in the procession of the wind that fans the flames, the wailing which devoured the sun with bone trumpet territories in the thick saliva that makes the voice a more severe beating in the cold that can only do remember walls in ruins, I invoke you.
A scorpion runs the stones and sand from my thoughts to end my skin is covered with scales and get nothing but swamps, marshes.
From this darkness where I live all of you as filling tall grass, not seen you, I can not see and however, deep, horizon, limit, mirror, water, I feel its light.
Mena and lover of sunsets
invoke you. When pests eat my feet hurt from wandering barefoot, when his saliva covered with vermin stinging my body, when the lips taste the strong smell of martyrdom, when the wind touches my eyes water swamped when the ear is accustomed to strange voices like a beast in its cage, when I crawl in the dust blind pursuit of a single trace of dawn, when the hands want to chime in that castle the enormous bells, I invoke you. Nomad
night you invoke. In the intact nana of frost on the nails start to scratch that last wishes, in the course of blood that reveals his heartbeat, in the procession of the wind that fans the flames, the wailing which devoured the sun with bone trumpet territories in the thick saliva that makes the voice a more severe beating in the cold that can only do remember walls in ruins, I invoke you.
A scorpion runs the stones and sand from my thoughts to end my skin is covered with scales and get nothing but swamps, marshes.
From this darkness where I live all of you as filling tall grass, not seen you, I can not see and however, deep, horizon, limit, mirror, water, I feel its light.
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