The lord of irradiation is dreaming hermetically of a country
Where tiny men in small towns no longer
Fight and come forth peacefully in waters where the salty
Silence of yes-no and the breath relaxes deep in-out so
The royal blood circles in quiet movements
The excellent person walks inside-outside in perfect health
He presents himself for the first time for the media
He speaks knowledgeable and continues the discontinuation
Of the loss of the geometric butterflies that are left behind on the
Pincushion of memories on the blank canvas while
The knife surgically cuts through the immaculate space
A dimension behind it reveals clouds and empty skies
The powerful pulling of the strings of pure desire lift him up