Poetry

After the skin, the corti 
were trying to measure the silence 
before the cloudburst. 
 
The white noises were 
very accurate, disciplined shouts 
ready to pull down the stapes. 
 
A cochlear fall from the 
great heights of vesuvian peak. 
No matter how big was the chasm. 
 
You have given up yourself 
to broken stirrups. The planets 
begin the dance without the god Apollo. 
 
The road never ends. The 
rider stands alone to ride the moon 
gliding over the empty sea.