left
right
next to the smell
ancient shoulder
all that jazz and all
the smell of rain
kings and queens
ready for red colours
we bleed next
to the forgotten path
'cause this is the way
veins and glasses and sunglasses
and sweet holy sweat
and telephone calls
that never listen to the dawn
and the wheel finally is mine
as we go down the night
such wonderfull illusions!

akipo