Let me give you one fourth of my window pane today.
Some rain drops sucking and being at each other’s neck, coming down the glooming gravity.
Two men with black dress and white teeth; flying above the melancholic air on their parachutes, are appearing on the two corners.
Remorse, every molecule of this is made with my remorse.
A drunk artist, half naked breasts, a tampered rainbow all along the glass canvas.
Slipping monotony and rumination of a baked world.
Betrothed fallacy again and again,
But I promise I would give you the most wet part of it.
And if you ever return from the voyage of infinity you would see me gone,
With the rest of the pane and the air around it.
Perhaps we can touch our vacant moans only through oblivion.