That’s my mirage
There’s an abstract wickedness
Looks at the heat
of the distant seasons

Between two lands
The sadism persecutes the gathering
The wishes’ eras in duration
end
The pang of evasion weaves the sin
Loaded the heart’s ease

the agony of pride
Now
I count the caravans of memories ;
a heaven
I mourn the remnants
of the* lost paradise
A paradise that I live within it
And lives within me
The crowds of the days pass
So noisy !
I look at the truth of those
too tender little moments

I make up the tricks for evasion
To what’s after that made-up- counterfeit
The tenderness / nostalgia takes me to the light
I pillow my mined questions
I play with the fondness of the wilted minutes in its gift
The tameness of the virgin soul
The heat of the curved forehead
towards the fall

The exaltation of passion
The melody of the possible answer
Before *deflection of midday

That’s my mirage
Inside me ,
Moans of a stumble
That sings the leniency
between your palms
the distances of departure to your cold topograpghy
practised the* climates of adventure
your endless refusal
widowed the infant’s naivety
The hypocritical conspiracy
Tells the bitter secret
*Melts the curtain of the plot
He makes up sip the bitterness
Of the wonderful truth

That’s my mirage
The gifts of the musk
Had now the odour of cadavers
The moments of warmth
Do no more make the generosity of joy
Now i *slay/ the innocence of the street in my room
I fire ISIS* from my cities
Oziris* makes me a Goddess
Draws the print of the reluctant tattoo
I take off utopia’s rags
And lean to secluding