From other higher skies I’m listening
to Jesus, a feeble hidden murmur
is sinking down on the illuminated trees,
on the delicate shrubs and on the dogs
in rut, the pale blueness clings to the clean
souls. A lonely man passes with his silent
fear so that he pluck out the eyes of his
revengeful fellow man. The Evil Demiurge,
shining shell is looking out for him
to catch him by the feet to pull him
to the darkness while he’s laughing.
Time, fugitive shiver, illusion.
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