I look in fever
at the
white white white
wastes
that surround me
knowing that only the stars
will know where I rest
and that the suspension of the years
is only the smooth trap
of my recollection
1970
I look in fever
at the
white white white
wastes
that surround me
knowing that only the stars
will know where I rest
and that the suspension of the years
is only the smooth trap
of my recollection
1970