The sky is paleat sunset.The stone moonhaunts, mute,above the hills. I’m seeking,without hesitation,among white sands and shells,cold tracks,old tracks of cyclopes. Silent thoughtsbury themselvesin my hair,bare,strippedof dreams.
The sky is paleat sunset.The stone moonhaunts, mute,above the hills. I’m seeking,without hesitation,among white sands and shells,cold tracks,old tracks of cyclopes. Silent thoughtsbury themselvesin my hair,bare,strippedof dreams.
