The Colorless Truth

Blue does not need the colour of the sea to paint the sky Within the reach from my balcony Nor do I need defeated eyelids to ride the morning I do need, at least, take off my oxygen garment To revive Me on the shelf of truth So that my flesh would be food for the rainbow And go along hand in hand with the wind To drown twice in the sleepy blue eyed darkness Sinking in me to seek depth To save itself from the lost wars there in the marrow I shall breathe instead of my oxygen And take a sip from the unique drink I do not care about the watchful day bats Fools go down to take their secret words And all their lucid risks Of a loud chant of the subversive water on my forehead The alphabet of liquids starts with the sweat of pain But never ends in the face of rain…