Vegetable Swallow

two smiles meet towards

the child-wheel of my zeal

the bloody baggage of creatures

made flesh in physical legends-lives

the nimble stags storms cloud over

rain falls under the scissors of

the dark hairdresser-furiously

swimming under the clashing arpeggios

in the machine's sap grass

grows around with sharp eyes

here the share of our caresses

dead and departed with the waves

gives itself up to the judgment of time

parted by the meridian of hairs

non strikes in our hands

the spices of human pleasures