Rimbaud on his boat
Screamed: Earth Remember!!
And before sinking
Saw a million of golden birds

Thus, the line
Goes
Geometrizing my soul
With a blue mathematic

When your blue line calls me
My soul is flooded by
Like a window in the sun

The stream of life fills Washington streets
But all I want

Is to be the blood flowing all day
In the inextricable maze of your skin

How many are like me
Hiding under a cloak worn by the wanderings
Their wrinkled wings?

How many are like me
With a lack hidden by thousands words?

The green seems gray to me
Only the blue survived

And your hands
Holding me like Montaigne
Painted the passages of my soul

And even if I read Flaubert
Even if he assures me that the immensity
Has no conclusion

I remember

The “Vayéchev”

In your arms

And all your flowers with some scientific names

That I don’t know                                                                                  

Remind me the face of Ophelia