pouring out everything into a dust-rich air
as if i poured out liquor onto a grave,
in memory of a face.
i spend my life in mourning,
pouring out everything in mourning,
because no other path is forming.
i feel, therefore must feel something.
but love having destroyed me
initially
somehow nullifies
its saving capacity.
and so i am nothing,
nothing that love will give me.
i am the queen of hell.
i am a blank smile.
souls scamper by
in misery and i am still
smiling.