There’s this significant black in my walls, 

cause I miss your damped hair.

I have seen red fish in your salt water.

I have seen that from the first time I went on stage, 

Millions of blushes, lights through my eyes and all reflections there after…

Fools were there, alcoholisms were there, damned solitary rains peeped, 

and I disoolved into the turbulence. your turbulence. 

You told me to confine myself within the songs of every muscles of every soul…and never spit a word for the Oblivion of mountains, 

And now, I do the same…I tell people to shut the fuck up for a moment and listen to the lullabies of vanilla deaths.

You could see I have gone miles for words and from words, 

you made this nonchalant sculpture for that feeling, for that rail printed roads, 

and you put that between our echoing frequencies for a summer sex.  

I wrote a letter for a matchbox after that, 

You went for the woods, I made the fire 

and a forgotten afternoon took you away…

My love I have found the madness of wood cutting…

I know my woods now.