Flowers on a cloud
They have grown,
tickled by the salty air
of the unseen
abyss.
There's a star beyond the horizon,
playing hide and seek with my senses.
I confess that, at times, I fail to see at all.
Ah, what hell not to taste,
with hungry fingers,
the surface of the immaculate border
of existence.
A forest I have grown atop this cloud.
Perhaps the roots of it
lie in the tips of broken branches.
And, while I strut my masterpiece above the Earth,
most people take their saws
to the roots.
There is a star, playing hide and seek,
beyond the line of the horizon.
Here I sit, on the edge of my cloud, looking down.
Should I hit them in the head with a pinecone?
God, there's that star there, beckoning me to play hide and seek
with my flowers! With it!
Go away, Sun! I'm waiting for the other world!
Now, there they go!
Shooting to take the birds down from the rim!
Go away! Go away!
That annoying star has blinded my eyes, temporarily...