Shall the haze of winter
bring to stillness...

Clay-smelling objects,
mud plates and bowls...

There are things
that nothing can replace...

What if the sky is made
of trees, the sun of white silk...

I watched in ignorance the remains go by
I tried to draw a bridge, a canal, a little door...

I've not been there before, but it smells like...
Washing the curse off your hair, cold water runs...

I slip out of my shredded skin
in seek of a colorless roof...

I hate the fact
that I saw you...

Your heart is torn
in the beautiful mess...

No figure to
your drawings...

Worried & lonesome,
dispirited I sit...

.....come to me,
let me protect you against light...