.
..And i saw this woman coming to me.
Her face was something familiar to my eyes...that expression blend of tribulation and interminable love; the noble nose.
...That expression...
The day was breaking and the dawn was a song.
The solar aroma had the untransferrable magic of the oxygen running silvery into the hermetic-silvery temple of Palas in the middle of the sea.
And the august, solemn emotion of some august-solemn things.
And i was dawn. But specially, i was maybe...
Only i know why i say this.
Then, i saw her as she is, and in part: i saw her out of time and space, on a dry-esque landscape of yellow meadows under a sky so blue, that was metallized.
And she opened herself in life to warm up my dream...
A strange and fori(s)bond angel from Germany lit the moment.
And he was clad all in black wool.
And his wings smelt acetylene and flesh of stars.
And i was maybe. Maybe...
.
