The Body of the Unknown
In my mouth the spittle
of voices, the tongue of windows,
the estate of dreams,
captured like volleys of wind, springs
of rivers, fountains with religious smells.
In a valley of tides I grow the water of my
I follow the speech of dead mysteries,
images of silent interiors,
catechisms of stone, swallowed like food
of empty spirits, blood of celestial flames,
theories of blind and ignorant words.
In a forest of ungifted wood, I raise the body
of the unknown, and it burns
like the sun of water in a sea of electric caves.
Tenderly, I stroke the beard of morning with
hands not used to cleaner spells.
Darker than clouds of vision is the star
of infinity, thieves of justice and precious law.