Why chase eternity? Fight the impulse to flee away. No more metaphysics. No more sermons. Nobody tells me how to embrace broken rivers. All they do is unveil the curtain of reality. All they harvest is one micro void after another.
Where to put aside my sentimental nerves? Kneel down your dignity to her endless wind and moon. No more artifices. No more articulations. My body without soul collapses from sudden loss of organ.
YOU ARE READING
The monsoon literature
PoesíaOur self is always so distant a leap from the surroundings. Literature is the medium of the minority to revolt, to state existence.
