Tracing a lonely,
fire trail, I will not tell you,
what happened.

The face of religion
was pelted. I was not able
to read the eyes of the animal.

The skin will change
the color in dark. You cannot
correct the tattoos. They
become invisible.

You can answer the visage
of addiction. I was crazy
about the exclusive
claim of my moon.

And you will become
artistic, writing your longing
in air.

Look, from where to
where we have come to
know each other.