Like a winter bee
in the fog she was flying randomly
and in heaven she melted,
and began to suck his invisible honey.
Between nine lands
the sky was swaying, knowing God,
but it broke out in an instant -
like a mirror full of eyes.
As if someone to this side
through him was trying to pass
and split palm
in front of her blue door was sinking …
Black was the world,
blacks were water and bread
and the winged mole
was still searching heavenly forage.
But behind the little bush below
another disemboweled mole lay,
because below us
now cramped it was the land.
