LOOK AT NIGHTFALL
TRANQUILITY OF THINGS FILLS ME WITH INDIGNATION
SOMETHING VERY BITTER IN THE AIR I BREATHE
MY SOUL SUFFERS
BOREDOM, ANXIETY PREVENTS ME FROM CONTINUING ANITHING
DESPAIR, I DON'T LIKE YOU VERY MUCH
YOU DON'T FIT EITHER MY CLOTHES OR MY COFFEE
WHY ARE YOU STAYING HERE SO BIG AND CONTROLLING ?
IT'S A REALLY HORRIBLE DOUBLE LIFE
I DON'T THINK THERE IS ANOTHER WAY OUT
NOTHING BUT MADNESS

DARK IN COLOR
TO GIVE THE MORNING A CONNOTATION
IN A WHITE CUP ON THE EDGE OF A WINDOW
THAT SIMULATES THE COLD OF WINTER
WITH ITS WARMTH
HEAVENLY RAIN AND ITS DELIGHTFULNESS WITH ITS TASTE
WHICH THE LOVER SEES AS A MEDICINE
FOR PASSION AND NOSTALGIA AND REMEMBRANCE
A RENEWED FLAVOR
THAT YOU CAN'T GET TIRED OF
AND IF IT BECOMES A MORNING HABIT
THAT YOU PRACTICE EVERYDAY
IT'S THE KEY TO THE MORNING
WITHOUT IT THE CLOCKWISES STOP MOVING

WRITE TO ME
FOR THE DEAD
AND WHO HAVE NOT YET BEEN CREATED
FOR TREES AND AUTUMN
FOR THE CHAIR UPSIDE DOWN ABOVE THE TABLE
WRITE FOR CONTAINMENT THAT I DON'T KNOW