L490

The equinox happens
at the division of the earth
into a million little pieces
of music. It is the end
of the world and nobody lived

except for these fluctuations
breathing, swinging to and fro,
perhaps an amplifier; a hand

that strums the guitar
and another playing
the apparitions of a piano,
and softly with a note, everyone

chants linguam
concito propius
fortis Orbis

post XXX Marti seconds

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