the ship sank in the immense white Caucasian afternoon, just when the clock sounded the hour of the day.
sailors saw feverish light traps in the air on, and feelings of primitive landscape, where sculpture of the man was yet to come, even inert matter.
tried last breath in the light of the sad look kinematically cormorant, nell'orma ephemeral dolphin, illusion property of a moment made of water.
the embrace of her ocean, inevitable, and deep sea where the light comes every 10,000 years.
fish moth, giant squid, krill, whales, perhaps.
all fauna silent negligence.
what is left behind?
tracks in the forest, a crumpled hat, a nail with soap, only a word made of salt.
E 'the bread of the beggars, the garment of the saints in the mud, their noble, memorable fall.
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