the rains slap, blur and wash the mountain
in the window. “five meters of thickness of the sliding
layers usually are equal to 2,000 years of past”,
a dream of the senses that fills in the valleys, all other
cuts and traces in the landscape: pushing out the memory
into the electromagnetic bundles of the underground water
drops, to some new landscapes…
this day is already a new geological leaf on the flatland,
with crumbly printed mosaics, friezes, reliefs,
a mirror pressed in between, myself in it,
while following a running deer, I entangle
in the forest branches, I take the roof
of dark leaves and light threads
– much earlier before the mountain clears
into a multicolored beast kneeling in the darkness