for even a flower.
a bud is better.

for the fact that. how beautiful it be.
growing. is growing to death.

--- you can't erase end.

i see each dawn.
how my night. grows into morning.
i don't see it as flower.
blooming from bud.

i see it as my young. growing to old.

my night is a poem.
my poem. of all poems, i write.
i see it aging. each morning.
i see it dying. each morning.

how would it be.
if my home had been. in the claw
of a sparrow ?
the bag. three rooms.
music. and me.
there --- so tiny. yet free.

---- how would it be?

maybe the world had been planning
since billion years.

to bring me born one day.

meteor showers.
big bang. breaking stars.
were all designed.
such that i could take birth.

in events. they conspired my birth.
to time. they wrote my coming.

(you never know)

fall. die. bloom.
but live in yourself.

i fear to erode from myself.
the roots are brittle now.
it has been old.
since my birth. to my fall.
and bloom again in esteem.
it looked like home.
the closest home. near me.

// i lived in me.

bring me an honest door.
to leave my letter. safe.