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Darknesses
1
green leaves always forgotten when  windows are too green
like every pebble roughly thrown by spring
hitting spring itself
birds  still wearing arid skates of blue
though old dog eyes are tired out
no need to translate the riverbank’s slapping
the aesthetics of death  incite the swarming of the flowers
fields alone  can tolerate the furious heart
fleeing still further  April sniffs out blood
in sunlight the wood crouches behind us
knowledge that can’t be taken away  it takes away the dead
reciting a poem  a deepened stillness
the other world is still this world  darkness would say

2
a storyless person  escapes into a day
with a gesture of escaping from the day
a pastless person  has passed away
seagulls worked into an abstract book by the evening
locked in the isolation ward  who isn’t crazy
delusions  more like fragments than flesh
fragments of glass  shattering skeleton heard on the periphery
fragments of rotting tongue  twilight washes away, just washes away
rats squeal  shrill squeals as light stamps on itself
each day startled awake by each day
with one black night  a personless story
still won’t come true told twice  darkness would say

3
each shower of rain makes you sit at your end
rain rapping on the roof  tiny animal steps
move you motionlessly into the darkness
in motionless weather you need others to sleep
to sleep is to leave  the world of the rainy season leaves
once darkness has passed through you like a thoroughbred through the fire
hear inside you  silvery white stitches everywhere
stitching a worn-out windcheater of flesh
every shower falls only on this bare ground
when you begin reading from your end  a page of black explanation
unweariedly swaps someone else for next day
forges an address  the graveyard street still muddier
finds fault with this hand  beggars huddle together in mutual hatred
making a city with nowhere to shelter from the rain
a flock of soaking crows collides inside you
breeds different crimes with identical faces  darkness would say

4
but darkness didn’t say a thing  between dark and dark
only this spring
kite’s bones hang in the treetops
bark shines  lovers pass kissing under the tree
pollen in the lungs beating last year's gong
a bright red clown  always makes children run wild
greener and greener the teeth that chew little hands
old newspaper lawn  hands over scissors of flame
so April  sees the river flow like a mirage
the current’s forgotten colours  see us as mirages
once the dove’s call is burned black  all the stars
are broken toys stuffed in a pitch-black floodgate
in darkness there's always a body drifting back to the place of no dreaming
even we fear  only fear our own terror
darkness doesn’t say a thing  every walker on the streets
starts muttering to himself
darkness  is listening to the orange-red darkness of lipstick
a spring school always makes us ignorant
memory  who lives in it is a ghost
but sickness attenuates the look
when a mirror’s worn on the face  the ocean digests a dead fish
being vomited is still endless chatter
darknesses are too many  for life ever to have got there
spring walks out of us  only then  is spring silent at last