The painter of women suns
abandoned in his stubborn clarity
he made his last trip there very alone
over the attrantico and was buried when I get
The painter, shining like the moon
with his long hair and his dark beard of dust
spit a crab from a drawing
and put a date to his farewell
and he continued wanting though he was not loved
maybe as a human being
and he kept learning the way
of loneliness at all times.
And he went among hallucinating beings
with his long hair and his dark beard of dust
unloading cries on the souls
while the Blesseds crossed themselves
and he had no churches, but some altars
love had between the sienzos
and in fantasy I was practicing
your journey to the universe.
The painter of the light vines
He wrote his last signs with sad despair
And I leave his remains to friends
asking only walls to hold it
asking only walls to hold it.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)