A walk

On the bay she walked before her shadow
Overcoming my smile touching its texture
Unfurling the muslin of my pleasure,
meticulously

She even walked in the front of my passion for death

Till I faint for a day and eternity more

To read the last truth in the last pages of any newspaper
Where the memoirs of beloved are manifested as grief
For the premature death of the progeny,
The “I”
Composed by myriads of souls, and
Bones and flesh dust and the sparks of light

Alas, she runs off
We run off
I run off the will for hatred

Now and just that
I love and I extinguish