the sky

doesn’t know her reasons

little does it matter the transition

how high the fingerprints

who offers who seeks

little does it matter the prediction

the immediate future

is keen:

the knights no longer

can be counted

yesterday

I read the sky

primitive questions within

the black smoke infested

my bones

and I strive to know

holding onto utopias

for how long will

the ligaments last if

in this city

nobody flees

everyone expects for the time

he comes in uniform in decrees

busts and statues and also comes

when all is clear

for we live under

eviction

visions fall

as threatened

and the sky

doesn’t know her reasons

but I

I reached the border

of every word:

where everything binds lone

every definition

spreads

yesterday

I gathered the letters

with constellated rebellions

I sew on my fist

a dark tempest

and the sky gazed back

answering

this way

who knows