1

I want to play to you.
I want to learn how to play,
to take the lyre
and learn.
I want to learn to know you.
I want to recognize what your high and low notes mean.
I want to play you.

 

3

The body is the instrument.
The body becomes an instrument when it is connected.
The bodies play the music of the flesh.

 

4.

The speech of the bodies.
One movement is a letter. It leads to another
and soon we have a whole sentence.

 

5

The music fills the room, a friendly speech.
The music bounces from the walls
which are its limit,
goes to ears
which are its infinity.

2

I leave.
I leave from this modest place
where I write,
from my room.
I let go of my pen and let it fall.
It falls.
It falls through the floor.
I fall through the floor.
I fall.
I fall to history
which has created me
which is responsible
of my actions
of my thoughts
I fall to memories
which have created me
which are innocent
of my actions
of my thoughts
of falling.
I fall.
I am inside.
I am inside a thought.
I am inside a body's thought
which is inner.
It gets repeated in a body.
It moves from one human to another
like a good disease.
It gets repeated.
I fall past you.
My meat falls past your meat
but
I stay in your thoughts
you stay in my thoughts.
I am inside.
I am inside of death.
I am inside the death of language
and in birth
which is inner.
It happens.
It happens now.
This moment.
This moment.
This.
This knowledge.
This knowledge.
This.
This ignorance.
This ignorance.
This.
This nonexistence.
This nonexistence.
This.
This moment.
This moment.
This.
This.
This.
Not this.
I fall.
I do not exist.
I exist.
The cosmos around me
within
a great storm
gets smaller
and smaller
fits to a microscopic space
and is.