A Stimulated Salutation

Crawling to repair my median voices, I bump my lumbering head along the curtains Picturing a light evaporating out of masses A sculpture modeled in my deep-seated mountains I'm about to begin a brand-new journey, as all my letters and signs are falling airily Grit is granting me with a glowing crown No slices are left from my earlier dawns A rapid switch hit on my pavement, like losing memory and diving in a lake full of velvet and blinding diamonds My lot is sleeping in covering wings Another morning emptied of tongues I do a humming like bambino birds My pen blushes when seeing my pump, as wine of this pulp turns into dust I steam to tie the stars, and I sink in a giant maze of origami planes I pinch every no-man's land, in a blink, pour them like milk in a pan sitting on flames When snowflakes rise as bubbles of calligraphy, and symphonies catch back their delicacy My wizard's iris drinks the clouded chords Veins wrapped in purple, as it snows in my globe I'm bordering the gate, into writer's crowning sun I inscribe this poem, to salute ladies and gentlemen my hand waves to you, as eclipse calls This is not a break, just a swing of my bipedal poles My silhouette hikes in an elevated air, like a pat ballerina climbing up the stairs Bolting bulldozers, with feeders into the orb A crystal punch radiates downtown's corpse