I count the dragonflies on this creative night. I show you the soul from the perspective of the God of mirrors. I break each lunar cycle. Bamboos imitating unfinished sounds. Your hair is that numbing sensation. Breathing and distributing millions of Chinese lamps rising to infinity. In every immediacy, I brush your hands. It's so subtle that maybe you don't perceive it. Magic from every angle. It's sideways nights. In the city you hear the bells. They announce new lives or just count the minutes. We need each other. We tear off part of our skin. Among so many sunflowers and songs. In the background you can see the houses. Some birds fixed in the sky. Search my eyes. Check the grass that dwells in them. Flashes of distant combats. When we didn't know each other. We imitated each other's happiness. We tucked ourselves in the canvas. A million miles away.
We had saltpeter in every pore. When we shared glances. On any given day. At any latitude. With columns of soot tearing the blue. The sea changed its appearance. The rain came to kiss your hair. It was romantic. You fell without wanting to. I took you by the hand like a life preserver.
And I stayed forever counting the dragonflies, that uselessly cling to your hair.
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
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