Get ready the sonorous
Banquet
Of your words
That I go in free fall
Toward your chest.
Do, please, that expression
That makes me
To expel the demons
That I have inside
And when already converted
In the outlandish animal
In that you know
That I become
Please tame me
With your words
And play your sweet harp
In front of the pavilion
Of my hearings.
That I want to pasture you
As if you were
The Great Plains
Of North America
And me an athletic bison
That all your territory
Parsimonious travels
In search of the herbs
Balsamic and alienating
With which you wrap
Your body.
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