Again it's time to go to the mountain
to find a cave to hibernate. I will not lie
: the mountain is not mother, caves are like eggs
gaps where
pick my flesh and forgetting. Again
see on the slopes of solid mineral veins and nerves
petrified, maybe
in ancient times were traveled by chills
living creature.
Today, after millions of years, the mountain
is timeless and does not know how our life
or how it ends.
There is, beautiful and innocent in the fog, and I come in perfect indifference
ball and delivered to me the idea of being another substance.
I came for the umpteenth time to pretend my resurrection.
stone In this world no one is happy with my awakening. I will be myself and I'll play
and if my body is still the soft part of the mountain
know I am not yet the mountain. Things
in Corps of José Watanabe
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