A young beast
leaves a footprint
on empty earth

the ears interpret
knives as foliage

in her crotch
a whole balcony of moss

against the black
odor of the stars

a firefly
cannot live a century

the blood sleeps
like hardened wax

something is missing
a shadow
pregnant with noon

a grey whiteness
wounds the heart

and death approaches
in a nude echo.

Nihilistic Poetry