Words, spoken

I will let out  two, three words, sliding down my cheeks.


I do not want to steal the future time

I ‘d rather keep honor guard to the dead thoughts.


One day I will escape utterly, and leave a void for the last wish.


The autumn sky will be hidden by the gap of emptiness

And death.


Then, with the move of an experienced gambler, I’ll pull rope on the neck

Of nonexistent, the untouchable body.


I’ll let down my cheek

Two or three words.


Thus, comforted,  I will go to meet him, to appraise whether sensible

The spilled words where.



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