Who will know
except you that I
killed my velocity to meet
you in infinite obscurity.

From autumn to autumn
I will wait for a
collision course of nobility
with pure surrender.

So many tattoos on
your body. How many poppies
had kissed you in the spring?
Shame on the blue sky.

Do you believe in reincarnation?
I was Buddha on death bed
when you had touched
my feet unsolicited.

There was no end of celebrities.
Who was quveten than you?