exiled from the reef of dawn ... in the resonance of what is not said ... or else a summer day, a porch on a dead-end street ... entangled again, yet as a kind of welcoming ... what was the first word written ... the script on her body in that case ... crow because sky, and anticipates the question ... the vacant sea and its blade ... cloud says watch, together with the smile that crawled ... in seeing that we are the ruin ... staggering, beyond the possibility of saying ... as a true story it is given (composed) ... new dimensions of light attached to the decision ... attuned, on seeing ancient gods ... begin with the taming of the flood ... one object sort of rolling on the surface ... but one day she maybe (me) to face ... “no tiene nada” determined by the words we use ... follow me into the ocean ... from the coastlands (obscure lament) ... summoning approach almost knotted together