I wept
For a stream of love whose source dried up
For a firebrand that consumed itself
For a widowed moon
That witnessed the senses flare.
I wept for the lotus tree of the soul
Whose fragrance penetrates the cycle of dryness?
I wept profusely
For each bleeding part
For a song that followed
The funeral of my lightning
I wept long
Until I gave up seeking forgiveness from my tears
Look at me!
Am I not the eyelid squeezing the grapevine?