My skin now is against slight whisper of the silk And heart is lazy being still off hurry. Small cell. Closed door. Warmth of a tea with milk... Who will be born of life and what got to be burried? Events take place and mystery of mind. The game goes on for players who come round. Sincere thought unlocked the useless sight: What were the abstract skyes became the flesh of ground. To read the book i was in front of word. I bent my knees for senses to be found. My heart was nestled as a new-born bird - The pulsing melody of pure sound. My proud hopes are in my hands remain. I try to give you what I want to gain.