The new years are passing
into a cloud of innocent tears
reviving the atrocious mask
that maliciously covers the great
circle of her passions ‒ the overnight
compassions are visible, the shout
is visible, the stormy and strident
silences of the things are visible
through a luminous cloud of tears,
the years being resurrected with a new
air with the unread vision
from the purer dream with love’s
lighter step.
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