To hold a longing from days to sadness
To bear fret which run till the heart
The rain of nails knifed our eyes
You said it was okay
Because the sorrows were only a museum of enchantment
Which cracked and shattered in our chest
We then left each other released all memories
Which perched and melted on the season of forehead
Since then I found myself which was frozen, trapped in a fridge
Embracing the tens kilograms of incomplete poems
Without a map I returned here
On a highway made of your visage
Awkward words, followed the time
How did you translate the emptiness?
This night was no track who read love
Whose longing was free
In a cliff of poem