(R) (R) (R) (R) (R)

(R) (R) (R) (R)

Even if a place did exist,
say in a country of 1000 gardeners
and 10,000 shops where money is disguised as bright confetti,
a space that loneliness could not find,
the city would still exhale its vegetal breath
in fresh volumes of reality
suffering description: girls still flit from the amethyst shop
to the shop of Three-Wheel shorts:
birds still visit delicate,
vermilion petals that pour from the hotel balconies,
probing each with a beak like a brush
as if beginning again, one by one, with objects:

(R) (R) (R) (R) (R)

(R) (R) (R) (R)