There’s nothing much more to remember
but the starlight
although I felt enough courage
to write a wild letter recalling shadows
when the sea collapsed
I bore the mockery
my mind full of color
continued its descent
past the debris and with such longing
What I had composed
was a rather short letter
a note really
intense and scrupulous
my imagination, free
I addressed you with my instincts
and asked you how you were
I imagined you, seated at the piano
repulsing criticisms and questions
Outside the wind, guilty
has no manners
curling petals
and is a great deal louder
although it doesn’t care about the color
I was in an agony
as I sensed your dismal laughter
What will I do
when danger comes?