I see the garden of games
sewing storm and thunder,
sparkling cracks and lights,
traces that describes
unknown forms and delights,
draws of discontinuity and separation
revealing a silent lotus
floating on a divine creation,
chest of cheers
that rewrites
petals of totality
with incredible might
flourished from the flesh wound
that revives
lines of the ground,
embroidered sighs,
garden of pensiveness
without words and sounds,
game of fulgor and darkness
painting unisonant mouths.
About the Author
Cleber Pacheco
Member Since: 22 Aug, 2015
Novelist, short story writer, poet and playwright. ...
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