In transition, of
a starry namesake, holding hand―
in priceless moment,
of anthropic lineage.

Give me the heritage
shock, contents of unknown.
In ghostly silence, I will
talk to an empty chair.

Remember Van Gogh. Why
did he cut off his own ear?
Not to hear a big No?
Million fragments speak the truth.

I will write on my skin
my dark name in blues.
Do I make me understand?
Soon the moon will rise
to take a side.

A face drowns in my arms.