P helots cuttlefish
If art is a weapon loaded with future expansion
dream then a silent revolt
in which each seeks to my chest
the mirror and its temple pilots
we
pilots sepia
bent on wind
write on the seas with fire
throw the scepter and throne
without tears of blood painted on the face of marble
melodies or machine gun
only
the great silence of the thunder that rolls
---
Pilots sepia
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