In transition, of

a starry namesake, holding hand―

in priceless moment,

of anthropic lineage.

Give me the heritage

shock, contents of unknown.

In ghostly silence, I will

talk to an empty chair.

Remember Van Gogh. Why

did he cut off his own ear?

Not to hear a big No?

Million fragments speak the truth.

I will write on my skin

my dark name in blues.

Do I make me understand?

Soon the moon will rise

to take a side.

A face drowns in my arms.