Under the burning sun
Is it sane to confess
That I crave the rain?
You are my rain
Rain on my fever
Cure my disease
That science couldn’t bear.
In this broad daylight
Is it safe to confess
That I desire the darkness?
For I can see you in darkness
Where everything else is dark and dead
-where I can worship this shame-
I can touch your invisibility,
And your pure vagueness
With my very fingers.
Now let us just talk for a while
-in this broad daylight-
About art and insomnia
With our jealous hearts
Buried
And burnt
Under this sadistic sun.
