Из альбома: The Moon Sang on the April Chair

Flakes of lights
flakes of voices
wherever pirouetted
like a primigenial chaos
like a futurist site
gushing rainbows
gushing darkness

evaporated we
ethereal we
in the glass dome
flakes of light

while clementines and lemons
rest
in the sharp teeth
of fire-clay fishes

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