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WITH. K.

Fly away, white butterfly.
I left you a life. This accolade
and sign, thy way far off.
Fly faster. About'll wind.
Even I myself will blow you vosled.
Nesis quickly over bare gardens.
Forward, native. My last advice:
Be careful out there, over wires.
Well, I told you not to entrust the news,
and some persistent dream;
must be, you are one of those creatures,
flashed on reincarnation fields.
see Well, does not fall under the wheel
and birds minuy movement fraudulently.
And paint my face in front of her
in an empty cafe. And in the air hazy.

1960

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