Hanging from the doors of the night

 Hanging from the doors of the night. It gets dark and he goes inside. Rest of the cliffs. His first tears are blue wings. His first memory, a body. I couldn't climb up your bare mouth. They were rice paddies. Water fields that replace sunflowers. Fields spinning round making the sky a top. Trapeze of dreams in the treetops. They are vegetable boats that sail rowing in the air.

Palimpseste sur painting. Mirror Sub-Irrealism. Random intratextuality.