I sing on the night of death,
Crying with the blood-stained throat of a nightingale,
Disemboweled and disemboweled.
I salute the grave in the honey-colored spring.
I sow all that is rotten,
Give you another brilliant——
I give you the core of myself I managed to preserve,
I give you the memory of a yellow rose I saw one evening many years ago when you were born,
I give you explanations for yourself, theories about yourself, real and amazing news about yourself,
I give you my loneliness, my darkness, my heart's hunger
——I try to impress you with confusion, danger, failure.
Note: The second half of the copy comes from Borges's "What Can I Do to Keep You?"
Also: The plot is old-fashioned, the whole story is nonsense, and the whole text is free.
Because there is an element of suspense and reasoning, it will be published in one go after all the manuscripts are written.
Intention: love