No more hours behind the windows
Neither heat nor cold nor calm and bustle
Ni details
things
Ni Ni happy mornings ruthless wars
watches only a mountain of empty thermometer
sweaty white
Newsstand
And a million letters
Floating in the pool.
And there is no past or future
Neither black nor white is gray Just like anything
And that noise is like a silent
And the sun goes out and goes
only is this chair and this forward
And the rain on the street
And the look in a corner of heaven
And this body dissected and cold
infinitesimal universe lies beneath the shadows of your immeasurable absence
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