Gently is the day in tears today and yesterday. The lips are shaking as I try in vain to pronounce your name. The wind, the wind again, the time ... I would expect every day sitting cross-legged on the shoreline, looking face to the waves with their perpetual motion and nerve-wracking. You can never blame me if I hate the sea? If I look at it thinking that keeps you, dragging you down to a heart that is no longer mine? I bath of rain, which has the taste of blood iron but not the color. Light slides along the cheek, and seems to cry. Draw trajectories that lead nowhere. Yet they are alive. Yet not I, not me. Agony stretched languidly, arm
left to look endless. There is a universe somewhere part where only I exist and nothing else. But here are nothing. Wonder who decides what is my way? I will remain patient with a smile while watching you pretend to have found my place. There, there. But thanks for your sweet lie.
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