SKINSMELL OF A FOUNTAINWOMAN

SKINSMELL OF A FOUNTAINWOMAN

still 

  midnight,

and 

  nobody

     pay attention

to 

  my last words.

even

  the disrespectful

      ones.

i design the 

  map

     of near

        exploration,

next conquest:

a simple

  woman.

dark hair,

  wild eyes

     says w/ extended arm,

she 

  understands,

partly,

the useless

  words. 

skinsmell-fountain woman-madwoman,

now

  buried like water, 1

under

  extravagant 

     galaxies,

by a flock of

  horses,

sweating 

  fear,

ride

  of

     despair.