I enlighten myself in holy words
through the aura of the shadow signs,
where the spirit enters into things
with the sold and unknown truth
like a fiction on the eye’s face
intangible and unreal.

I can barely breathe from the miracle
its peace sweet like a forbidden fruit.
I feel like I intangible float through my dream,
everything becomes consistent in the smoke universe
where hands rest in birds.

They fly over the blossomed gardens of poetry
where we all have
chosen letter by letter in words figments
I’d never said
and that you make me write.