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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: #FF4D63
RGB: 255 77 99
RGB: 255 77 99
HEX: #FF634D
RGB: 255 99 77
RGB: 255 99 77
HEX: #37A000
RGB: 55 160 0
RGB: 55 160 0
HEX: #B4FF05
RGB: 180 255 5
RGB: 180 255 5
HEX: #F3FF05
RGB: 243 255 5
RGB: 243 255 5
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.
