some learn to fear the garden. where the rose

is a false flower. messengers enter and leave without

a trace. and the orchid knows in its heart it will be injured.

 

seedling of an exhausted species, whose language can i speak.

word is wind. and sky, windless.

leaves give tongue until their skin burns green.

 

on the first day of life. rain stands alone in the field. and

there is no place that is not someone else. on the first day

of death. the moon begins counting its delicate birds.