Nothing is deeper than the skin. When I woke up, my dreams had always left a trap behind. Impossible to get in there. Was the wind really blowing? Now I am writing again on the quiet. I sailed between your lips and kissed the meteorites glittering down through the atmosphere.

The mind of the sun. Dancing, playing, listening. Like reading forgotten newspapers. The seagulls in the streaming water and up on the sky. The someone listened to the woods.