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From my hermetic and decadent flight from my bird of prey glide I know the parachutist technique to land in a moment. Do meu hermético e decadente voo do meu planar de ave de rapina sei a técnica do pára-quedista para chegar ao solo num

I love to write without thinking about what I write if I think what I write I tear up my thought and throw it away. Naturally I want the truth. I want it clean as a dawn without clouds neither horizon only dawn wishing to be morning. I

Around me there is too much green but also red orange yellow blue indigo and violet colours wrap me as a rainbow sweat drops refract my body with feet in a pond the head undulates the chest distends as an arch without hunger nor sleep or thirst or dream.