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but it is the center hole
that makes the wagon move.
We shape clay into a pot,
but it is the emptiness inside
that holds whatever we want.
We hammer wood for a house,
but it is the inner space
that makes it livable.
We work with being,
but non-being is what we use.
HEX: #261518
RGB: 38 21 24
RGB: 38 21 24
HEX: #7C97A3
RGB: 124 151 163
RGB: 124 151 163
HEX: #4485A4
RGB: 68 133 164
RGB: 68 133 164
HEX: #A4A4A4
RGB: 164 164 164
RGB: 164 164 164
HEX: #B7E5FB
RGB: 183 229 251
RGB: 183 229 251
the lost jewels of memory,
intense love, secret nights and permanent kisses,
the fragment of public or private happiness.
A few, the wolves, collected thighs,
other men loved the dawn scratching
mountain ranges or ice floes, locomotives, numbers.
For me happiness was to share singing,
praising, cursing, crying with a thousand eyes.
I ask forgiveness for my bad ways:
my life had no use on earth.
