trees are men and women at valley in ... are running backwards, health, shelter the evening and night, the city grows, the road moaning, it hurts at noon ...
I
below the night, under the astonished face of the moon, which looks and plays me, gets out and disappears, gets among the branches ... has to stand still, gets into the window ... It's about the night ...
trees are men and women at valley in ... are running quickly on the horizon, left behind. I will follow up lost in the distance and memory. Between night and the moonlight.
Damian Mictlantecuhtli
2010
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