The Elliptical Orbit

subdivided into pities and regrets, radiating dark pain of disappointment, on the face semi plastic caustic opaque already smeared blood and venom. but isn't everything the same? I mean, our usual acid, like the gray word clothed with edges, or eyes that have given up the light, our heavy presence in this fragile environment... we already know very well that the elliptical orbit of amazement is eternal, a gravitational loop that attracts us and then throws our self steem space away, leaving us naked as savages, clinging to the heat of lies that warmed the ice of our failures. (and is this endless walk through the sphere bathed by photons right? this is the destiny, crossing all equators with bitten nails, bloodshot eyes of someone who forgot to sleep and dream in the last century? anger has only one facet and it is a deep black wound, it scratches the sky and is a vertical and dizzying curse, it is spear and dagger that stabs the air and draws tears from the dirty stars. the universe was right to not allow me to fly because I would be a kind of swift tragedy, spewing radioactive sunflowers over every naive life like mine).