In longest night of pitch-dark space
you disappear like an arrow.
No star brightens your face.
Rumor was cruising like a bat on streets
to capture the gullible victim on winter solstice.
The snow was falling like sorcery.
A little anxiety to taste the dried out grapes
and listen to the hunger mouthless.
You draw the lake on a canvas
and then jump into it with visible nakedness.
