Image Of The Scribe Poem by Alexandro Johns

Image Of The Scribe



I allow myself to guide
like an afflicted fish
at the bottom of the stars
reflected in a tiny river.

I live of tales
for breathing a invented paradise
where I have only bites
with the latest apple.

My pleasure already
doesn't treat me with guffaws
It remain metallized and spherical
without tenderness forever.

I write and jumping to the empty
looking for my other self,
I am in average flesh,
I live against the light
with death in a sack
at a skull's throw
I walk towards the bullets.

Friday, November 27, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: imagination
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