On the corner
the building
is gone
with a figure
I can’t
remember
brushed
on its gray
shutter
an unavoidable
curve
an unrecognizable
spiral
I didn’t
know
every-
time was
a climax
looping
out of reach
toward
destruction.
On the corner
the building
is gone
with a figure
I can’t
remember
brushed
on its gray
shutter
an unavoidable
curve
an unrecognizable
spiral
I didn’t
know
every-
time was
a climax
looping
out of reach
toward
destruction.
"The last word of the perfect tongue."
"I am always seaking without fail what eludes me: the say of it."
the light writes reality
it is the light that writes reality in our eyes.
the perfect writer
comming from this or this corner, creating other phenomena we call reality
in return to the confirmation of ourselves.
(* perfect exemple of the dominance of visual perception)