There where I dived to find you

my being was lost

and the prophet of my heart was speechless.

You exist in an absolute shape

unreachable even to life

a white spot

some cloudy water.

I want to exhaust my last light

there where nothing

stops the eye

without any swallow

with no self-deception.

My heart must be dead

Though if I’m still alive

I shall look out to nature

I’ll name you summer

with no memory anymore

I’ll call you flower bud, until

the myth pulls the curtain behind me

opposite the white wall

all are finished and white

and I a cockroach

someone has stepped on.