In memoirs,
I send you my poems,
from this insane world.
You can hurt me again.
Like a stone
of an unknown, I will
wait for you, for a potency
climb to understand the resurrection.
Life will extract its price
from you when you
are passing through a burning
heap of skeletons.
Your unending romp was
over. Night was getting ready
to wear a ceremonial gown at
the wedding of the genius loci.
Moon starts licking his wounds.