HALFWAY THERE
I looked over the edge, under and far from it.It’s where the neighbour's camp was.
We can see the patio from across the street.It will connects what someone may call hometo what someone may call room.
There’s no place but only a surface and a bottom.An infinite, uncreated, perpetual.
A beautiful scene appears.
I saw a man passing by. Surrendering immediatelyto the certainty that he was nowhere.
I followed him into the fireplace.
He dig between those pictures.
His teeth rubbing together
as the sound of a strident chainsaw.The sparks produced bite the tongueand the shoulder of the man,
who collapsed at the side of a bird.
His destroyed eye tumbled down the hill.
The neighbour spoke to my ear to tell me his secret.I then put his eye in my pocket,
while is body was lifted away.
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