I want to paint the world yellow
and yell at
the top of my lungs
from rooftops in tongues…
Hereafter,
I want to catch laughter
by its tail,
unveil-
ing
spring
by pulling a thread of its dress.
I want to learn to caress
the lips
that lisp
words of passion
and ash
my cigarette on the stone-cold by-line,--
on the evening skyline.