Here's an excerpt:
Close to the opened mouth grow the leaves in dried bunches. Large
darkly blushing camphor leaves. Dried for you in the already dead.
Carefully selected motifs. Opiates with virgin eyes. Peeled away little by
little. [...]
White-flower and flower. In love’s garden there is a silver garden. A cool heart-thread. Which boldly spreads out in its flesh. The way the white worm moves in the flower head. And above this garden the heavens are always painted. The strong fields of the strong color. Close to the dead bowl. Where heavy pearl fruits open up and run down across the canals of the garden. [...]
The big valley is a vast mother-of-pearl mirror. There walks the large dead swan in her dead shroud. [...]
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