magma flying, tree-top spying
where i wondered, what happened to you?
where are you now?
where am i?
from bottled darknesses
will you still love me, Hermes?
after darknesses flow, likeness to light
the same as the opposite, no, opposing is different
straight from the imagination
whirlwinds circling, ever-spiraling
detached and dictated in solitude,
severely detached from meanings
visitors make appearances
ever reminding of infinity's challenge
may i recall for next time
a mental note, a song
for me, for you and all the unseen
blue spirits and the never dead
your little talking machines
piles of dusty books