Photo Notes

I have placed the head on soft thoughts and I have dreamt black daisy wheel  

what I cannot pick up. I have hidden everything in the palm of the hand  

and I have gotten further my thoughts. I have followed eyes of woman to cry and   

it howls of unpleasant swearwords. A theater of blood had been petrifying for the time.  

A theater of blood and smiles idiots of cement on that hill that I have of forehead.  

Where the moon once placed its nighttime melodies. Where the wind speaks  

and it gets excited in bad way frightening the passer-bys. Harmless passer-bys that   

they look at souls in punishment. Attending nervous the bells of the goodbye.

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