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?