Metamorphosis
Sometimes
I feel
my eyes
are slits
with which I
inhale the world
it disappears
inside me
a black hole
that consumes everything
in light times
the world
expands as
a stream of colour
and returns to me
comets and signs
of foreign oases
Studio III
The walls
of silken chambers
submersed in nervous twinkling
strewn with
sketches and texts
sheetlightning
depth and lucidity
a breath
of mystery remains
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