Brains On the Tarmac

The deluge rages

The water pours slowly on the windscreen

As a clot of blood

A shapeless mud that exacerbates my movements

A choking voice on the phone

Tells the arrival of a dimension of sorrow

Finally i can admire

It the design

Of an open head on the tread

I see the stars

Bleeding

Their incessant flow swallows my gaze

My empty white eyes meet each other

I see the stars

Crumbling

My frail and tired legs

Will rest

Will rot

And now the wooden raft

Cuts through the pond among

The water lilies

Above the dead body

The incense on the hands

The butterflies on his wounds, on his griefs

It has never been so resplendent

She has never been so beautiful