Words,children of anonymity,
though desirable,
copulated and impregnated by many,
gives birth to anonymity when its my conjugate.
Dreams infinite of infinity,
conceived in lazy drooping moments,
in hastened whims die,
its mortal death
Ideas always,
like means-ends race,
lose,
trail behind its shape
White,everytime,
as the pages were,
is my mind, yet another time,
for yet another page, white.
