November 20, 2004
Imagine.
unconscious
When we go back down the steps from the dark rooms
incessantly ringing in the deaf
steps,
turning the circle with the outcry in the throat
that stuns the mind.
One more, only this
the collection of layers
soon ballooning of oblivion
and lurking in the evening grinds
recline that dew and frost
stale breath. We advance
distracted by reflections from filtered
warmth worthy of fireworks;
change down to resume a life of travel czech
to imagine.
Manilo Busalacchi
