orphaned dawns.

 Behind the fog we were told there is a sun

whose rays devour the clouds

that fertilize unwanted eggs abandoned to their fate.

Clouds are young single mothers

who cry periodically when they have a psychological miscarriage.

Those orphaned dawns

They are the ones who leave my students unsatisfied.

The clarity of the fog limits them

But in the back it stretches them.

The clarity of the fog has left the windows pregnant

And now he's charming me with his masquerade ball.

Frustrated My disciples, spitting tears of vinegar

And windows give birth to crystalline reflections

Who will die as fetuses,

And they inhabit the tiles of my gum boards