On this earth, I exist,
Weeping into the willow of these ten fingers,
No more.
To be so safe and so sad,
And if the summer sends me sun,
Then I say try your best,
Because even gravity and me,
Fall to the same faults,
Some icarus melting,
The wings that spread from under the shoulder.
We look for what we do not have,
And I am crying over truth 60 times a minute,
Making the woman with the cigarette dance,
I’ve never been an emotional person.
I have been asked - do I even feel at all?
It is a question in me
In this moment,
We are briefly beautiful.