Gaston County Tax Value

against a model pupil in your great Variations on time

.
recognize me, night,
I feel, I count,
but not as greedy as a false blind
or as someone who never knows who is shipwrecked and who lay.
I have chosen to grope for statue of your allegories,
only by custom to plunge the world where you just lose your head
and in every cloud and every step the ground beneath your feet.
And does your stepdaughter was not always preferred
that coming on without hesitation into the trap concocted by your hand,
the bites the poison apple or mirror copy of your beauty traitor?
forgot to tie the mast of the house when you were spending
to keep me out every time after your flute Thief delighted children,
and was at the expense of the day I mistook in your bag and the white snow, wolves and shadows.
now too late to go back and correct the hours under the sun.
Now I have checked with your alphabet black.
belong to the tribe of staying in radiant darkness
of which look better with closed eyes and lie down on the side and rear of Abyss and never return flight
when Tom throws open the doors of the apparent noon . You
covers your Thebaid in the unseen. You not give evidence. Your event, secret, numberless, without asking,
as turned inward contemplation,
where each signal is the trembling of a bird in a huge room and every rise
a leap into the void from bleachers and absences. You watch me Tdesde
everywhere
curtains drew back, piercing the walls bales of darkness peering;
find me and me with the look of the hunter and the control, while
discover in the middle of your high weeds the splendor of a lost city,
or look in vain for traces of the future in your crossroads.
You are going who knows where, following the variations of temptation unattainable ends
trying on the faces of horror, of extreme beauty,
the impossible distance from others, touch from hell,
visions that crowd as far as you reach the darkness that I have, as far
death start to roll down with carriages, with stones and dogs.
But I'm not asking you or veils parted exhumed lamps.
Do not claim a lesson in light
how not claim to water by the flame or waking from sleep.
Or would rely less on you than on the hard, suspicious stars?
We have seen many insoluble mysteries with its white glare, even in bright sunlight!
Just take me by the hand and through a forest carpeted
night, creeping night,
learn what I mean, what the wind whispers,
and could finally read to the bottom of my little great night in your pupil.
.
.

No. 1 of the night drifting (1984)

Im In Love With Quotes

Regalia and ceremonial

.
Time:
you're dressed in the skin rotting the last prophet
you spent the face to the extreme pallor
you wearing a crown made of broken mirrors, wet rags, and chanting
now babbling of the future with the unearthed ancient melodies,
vague shadows while your hungry heap, like kings mad.

nothing I do not care all your ravings of unfinished ghost, miserable
host.
can gnaw the bones of the great promises in their rickety catafalques
or taste the bitter potion oozing beheadings.
And still will not be enough, until you devour
your court Goya finish grinding.

rhythmic never crossed our path in these labyrinths.
not even the beginning,
when you drove me by the hand through the Haunted Forest
and forced me to run out of breath after that tower
unattainable or find always the same with her dark almond flavor of fear and innocence.
Ah, your blue plumage shining through the branches!

embalsamarte not got I could not draw your heart like a golden apple. Too

pressing
the whip went after the driver imperial
incites been enrolled between the legs of his horses. Paying Too
,
condemned me to be the hostage ignored, the victim
buried to the shoulders from centuries of sand.

We sometimes fought hand to hand.
We played like beasts every bit of love,
every agreement signed with the ink in one instant forges eternity
each face sculpted on the fickleness of the sailing clouds,
every house built in the stream does not return.
succeeded in taking one by one those shredded pieces of my temples.
not empty the bag.
not display your trophies.
not retell your shameful deeds of gladiator in the galleries excessive echo. Neither do I

granted a truce.
I broke your laws. Forcé
your locks and went to the barn they call the future. I
one fire with all your ages.
I turned upside down like a curse that has broken, or mix your premises
as an anagram whose lyrics barter order and change the meaning. You
condensed to the point of a stationary bubble,
opaque, glassy cielos.Estiré prisoner in my dry skin leagues memory
until gradually the pierced holes of oblivion pale. One throw of the dice
made you hesitate on the immense gap between two times.

We have come far in the game awful, cornered the soul.
I know that there will be no break, and not
tempt me not with me invade the peaceful shade of ancient plants,
worth me nothing but be on guard, but ultimately
're standing around, getting your wages, petty bribery
the coin in your honor the hoarse machinery of death, mercenary. And do not write

then white borders "never again" with your hand
ignorant
like you're some god of God, a former guardian, the master of yourself in another you that broke the darkness.
Maybe you're just cheating the shadow of one of their dogs.
.
.

No. 19 of Mutations of reality (1979)

Queens Marriage License

The suit smoke and cobwebs broken allowing
-ever cross but never free-
these half open cracks in the walls those whose exile is the other side;
nettles hat for insomniacs force of dreams to nightmare,
or the other, like a swarm furious, calling the sparks of madness and fever;
gloves bark and open wound who get everything rub
and better palpated the bed coals where it incubates the future;
feathered blast layer to rotate faster at the wheel of metamorphosis and be
hope for those regions where vacuum I
is lost and not hit bottom in another shelter and mixes the output;
and shoes, grass, needles, ants,
made to explore all the realms and breach borders. What workshop
unprecedented
my head! What costume
fable in the dressing rooms of the high voltages! How fragile
packaging is a wicked game of temptation and the challenge! I tried
dizziness, delusions, asphyxia,
agonies liturgical ceremonies adaptation as Purgatory
embroidered robes spells as holy;
wrapped me in visions unfinished
disturbing in light to blind guardian the fatuous reason;
covered with so many veils of absence my memory that barely woke up in my skin;
exile rehearsed cruises to other lost souls in the forest was
be others, to erase the seams of separations
-yes, a single tissue where all that exists were enrolled, an infinite canvas
Veronica transudate for God's blood.

sometimes picked up some tiny trophies
glassy sediment as frost flowers that dissolve under the tongue, foams
evaporate like spectral dust between the fingers,
flashes of light that would warn anyone in the sun,
reliquaries finally,
like those stones away from the sea to forget their brilliance.

urge got the answers from the shadows to the babble and collapse.
I overpowered the night I leaked out between his teeth;
adopted me as their usual food.
No more testing and scans networks golden legend.
No costumes to cover their retreat and evade the slogans.
Only the poor, naked seamless coat that sticks to my bones,
soon turns me inside out and drag me in,
step after step by step ending definitely blind.

I'm done with the same substance in the gulf and
craft against all my fall in the still darkness.

No. 17, reality Mutations (1979)