• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 04
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The last fork

I was shifting the books
From shelves to shelves
Those letters from the first cry, growing black to grey
With dusts of emotions

Slowly I shifted the whole house
One by one
All rooms
Nothing left as mine
Or yours…
Except the last feelings
Lingering in the lost mind

Did I forget something,
Or I just remembering now?

When did you last say?
We are alive
Alive from the birth of time

Just like
The house becomes the grave
Grave becomes the temple
Temple becomes the vast blue space

And then comes alive the rain

Then me

Then you


The last fork

Then the spade

We are too busy, to forget
The earth is waiting for us