Old Florence Women Moon above horizon be soft to the old women lay down on her meadow join her steady procession Her old and new divisions bording to her throbbing vein sneaking through the history some people saw her burn in pain Old Florence women is still alive give us wings to fly indolent no way for haste time for living and time to die A hasty gown reflects her mirror Monday morning good old sorrow
Sea Face yesterday here I found the Orient remain in me thought I knowing There germinated night with this decay Traveller in the morning rope I wash the darkness to you lift handful of clear water from yours reflecting sea face Blurred you form then the rings of the Forgetting Only patience and maturity lets me preserve my face To the madness never the forehead compulsory A trip without companions From bare desire in the #life quite blank sucked In me rests the tact too long it does not hurt any more hazardously Only my footprint presses the mood If it goes on