unsuccessful escape

contemplatin' through the empty mirrors

the fine, mistlike rain drops
I saw deaf shadows
criystal faces
of nimble lads
and cars in their fluid flight on the asphalt
I was trying in vain to ignore myself
to the phantoms' advantage
their blue lungs nearly drowned
with so much sweetness
their frozen looks
like a purple abyss
were slowly anihilating my neurons
half already dead
it was Cold outside
and I was waiting for the old guy
with delicate hands
to arrive
but he seemed like having been swallowed
by the storms' blind eagerness
it was Cold out there
and the angels' humid ribs
were devolving quickly