Your heart is torn
in the beautiful mess...

I hate the fact
that I saw you...

I have found
God...

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

Speak to me
of the Autumn yellow stories...

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

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

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

There are things
that nothing can replace...

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

Shall the haze of winter
bring to stillness...

Two zero & four-
gone in vain...