Stacking your night froth

let me explain to the birds passing by

in the unbounded color of the sky

release the waves immediately in your hands

which you hold tightly when we meet

your face has long been stranded on coral island

I know when the tears of your tears groan

but still you hear the rumble of the waves

splashing the foam on your dazed eyebrows

the night does not let go of the cold you send

your boat floats on the back of the season

because the voyage has been transformed into an old continent

playing froth with a watery humming of the eyes.