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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: #262521
RGB: 38 37 33
RGB: 38 37 33
HEX: #EBE9DF
RGB: 235 233 223
RGB: 235 233 223
HEX: #E9E9AD
RGB: 233 233 173
RGB: 233 233 173
HEX: #F0EDC3
RGB: 240 237 195
RGB: 240 237 195
HEX: #FFFFF
RGB: 255 255 15
RGB: 255 255 15
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.
