All night, he evaporates with her scent By silver times, his soul rains on her eyelids He pours his soul between her eyelashes And hymn arabesque between her lips

Exotic like a dream of an ommrtal myth Inhaling words to live and exhaling meaning Growing larger than vagueness of death Time has a wound and his soul is the bleeding

All day, he impersonates dust to write light Or impersonates the woods to read wind They told him nonesense don't recite Recite, he said, that I never did

Artsia found him at orange times dazzled about where he stood She smiled, kissed his forhead, and pointed her finger to the wound

He took a deep breath and started to evaporate...