RED: It is late.
ORANGE: It has been late, it was late, which is just a piece of paper, signed, who came, you finally, as I've seen, when all accounts said you were lost, I mean far away, unheard of until suddenly you arrived, in time I believe, if I was asked to (believe), to take up residence, in a barn for instance, in a room. Are you interested, being so sudden, out of the blue, my mistake, I'm always a little ahead, in speech, words take up too much of my day, and nothing of my past.
A STAR: My son, cocaine.
THE COLOUR OF A STAR: The paper itself, 1968, January, someone is born, a last child, a certificate, who is his origin, especially at twilight.
A GLOW: It happens from sentence to sentence, and inside the sentence. He, who was born, is now using all possible means, and the loss of flowers and birds and women, including the workings of space, and the rite of tense, which adds, in a softly sweet way, the lovely silk of presence, as one wakes, he wakes, and sleeps the long sleep.
TURQUOISE: That is how it happens, in the next word, in the next sentence, roots rise, ah you're not sure of dying, lowly, touchly: uh so the bornly juice begins garbed in striped pink and white - je nais later (who is Jean Genet), and someone goes away, the stage is empty, thank god, and then years later, Gabriel.