poem no. 17

Noche and a quiet bedroom,

Down the stairs, 

Carpets ends in floral ivory, 

Here, the speak of order… 

Ebony flight, those passionate high…

Aura, 

Switch and call, 

Wait the gloom of the terrible spine, 

Noche, 

Ivory flight, 

Gold the light, 

Doors, forced to ruder ones

As prick unseen, perhaps in final day… 

Wonder Aura, 

The flames of my longing

Or is it? 

That life in May come hiding?

Noche, hills aspens… 

Runaway… 

River, 

Pine, 

Trail

Up-sky… 

Fades of witness… 

Noche, 

Go to […Sleep, Sleep, Sleep…] 

Nun with beasts 

Black not hide… 

Life does not hide.