MULTITUDES PERIPHERALS

The nerves are tied to the sky
container vacuous complaints,
of imperfect gestures
and our almost-pain.
We multitudes peripherals

behind illusory comets,
measures out of love,
decided over the shortcomings,
between oath and gold wedding,
in the yes and no of the day.
And we would have a dream of roses
for the time course of stone
He introduces his calendar.
Every moon is selling off silver
the future under skies of lead,
for sentence precept of surrender.
We multitudes peripherals
measures out of love.