Lift darkness by colors that vanish

...

If I am a bird of lust and wisdom, same way

the noirceur of a sharp crow

than the circus look of parrots

because I do not know the use of mankind in detail

and my house is a cloud as myth take the phone to say

this song the slave and the aged whore fail

to execrate as an everyday disease of ear

them used to mankind song do not bear


the circus lock is a secret parrot spoke

the stranger bird came with few words

whispers and a cough of suspicion

let in me tonight be the twilight crow and give me raw

your oh of womanly respect for the black feather of night vision

give me raw flesh of your every day unjewelled ear

give me raw kisses on my strange parts made of air

because I am a male fair emprisoned in outer space of nature

I belong to the merchant, mainly to his wife and mother

used to funeral songs and feeding of me nervous

your house is called memory, hebrew letters and gifts I left

the door was open and the bird had too much spoken

uncontrolled cloaca explained love by shitting in the chair

and back a broad sickness left by fair on a red stair

by vomishing liquid and seed about solutions you need

crow's hand took yours as the phantom of a birth and a lick in your skin

mascara of a ceremony to erect your chin until you would sing or cry

insipid nabel oh how me crow I can about shiver

trembling certitude of hard syllabation on my heat

handing in strength the length of a sofa rapture

between you and your man my name confound

as I am the sound of tortured troubled cloud I rain a loud

repetition of time in signs and castles in Spain

...