The end of the road.
The hill has withdrawn its own shadow
into its belly,zipping it up.
As I crop the tresses of the wind
With her loose and drooping mane,
The slit eyes of the wind crouch like a hedgehog,
The dawn breaking lambent at the end.
The door that can admit an empty bosom
Stans at the head of the land
just unfolding.
The sky"s hands sreading out
Like fan ribs
Are unloading the yellowish light.
The vacant space you flew into
Has developed a belly-ache.
The sky shook violently,
Letting tear-like scales stream down.
The earth has sucked the scales.
And the mist rises through the widening cracks.
The mist will hopefully rise and
Blindfold my eyes.
I wish I could forget you
Like the fuzzy mist.