George Mario Angel Quintero - A LEAF RESTS WITHIN THE SPHERE OF THE EYE

LIGHT ITS thousand moving green in the flesh. It rests lightly in the eye, lighter than tickling, though its word spins one way then another from wall to wall. Took a palette knife took with taking pressed the edge tonguing its math to find the small word please turning itself over at the end of a phrase like a red leaf please. Bringing the breeze, vein trembling in the weightless hidden. Dug out the gears of vision, peeling the lens, the leaf fell upon the carpet please, fall please, the leaf was never in the eye please. Though a carpet of leaves was not enough. The silent leaf lingered, blown further up the pipe with each word. Red mural and its texture answering, the gold circles about the heads of immobile figures. So circled the leaf bee, pleasesounding around angels