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The bay remains open, day and night
The pulses beat steadily, the nape of the neck focused on its ellipses
Everything is sweet. Everything is sweet
Kept fresh by the insatiable curiosity that undresses the world
The accounts were done, redone by zeal
Here it is, we arrived

Here it is, this lack of impatience
The certainty that the wait was only a sketch
It was about profiling the matter of time
Knuckles tightened on the job
Always skimming the not quite of the idea

Yet the bay remains open, day and night
From the bottom of drowsiness and amazements
Still resonates and probably forever
The groundless little call
The vain request and the sparkle it had






April 2016