by guido monte
old words, essence
erwàh, you said
on empty figures with no name,
ne quaesieris
cognoscere res no pedir de conocer
las cosas but no ceder
a las tinieblas
and going away you touch my hands
= dharma
but you’re en exil and i don't come back
from the desert, questions vaines
if all is desert
taras, cahier d'écolier
only void, that runs
pareja como el agua
comme le jour secreto
i alone can feel you
on these threads
endless brahman
our distance
nom de rien
as apparent obstacle
dans ton visage
and i don't know the luz...
but the end neither.
white home...
silence
mem
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