Somewhere behind the eyes a careful lamp looks. I had not yet met you. It was not the forests I came from. Every day slid along with me. The cloud hid something from the birds. Did you drag the outermost mountains? In the horizon a black cloud screamed for the smallest details. Was I quiet? Then the day slowly closed in on our eyes. Are you on the other side of the sea? The sand fretted my thoughts, made them round and soft until they disappeared.