DRACONIS

Black butterflies in the stomach,
blue feelings up and down,
they go somewhere in the purple.
Shades that come from wings that don't fly,
emotions stagnate,
psychological distortions,
mental allusions,
immortal threads.
Do you know that the flames sleep inside the dark ash 
that paints the bodies that dance in the Sufi circle?
Return to Draconian breath, 
remember what can be fragmented without breaking.
Volcanoes are already breaking up the lands,
already the dance of the heart becomes a quantitative science.
I have opened an electromagnetic field, 
you can become a tiny boson to open yourself to dust wings.
A drop of light advances in the hourglass of time,
like a tiny dust fills the horizon, 
I walk and I'm barefoot in the sea, 
together with my black butterflies.
I'm inside your room, I see the thread of dreams that pervades you, 
I'm barefoot and I'm starting to tremble, 
I'm starting to fade into the pixels of your mind.
I feel the heat, the pain, 
the wings growing too big to stand still, 
I abandon all footing, 
I can't get dark again.

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