June

Each day of the yearleads to June.In June, my heart suffocates,my voice dies.My love falls over deadin nostalgia’s bloody pit.

In June, the sun burns my skin,lays open the truth about my wounds.In June, fish leave the sea of bloodand withdraw to a distant place to sleep.In June, the earth is deformed, rivers are mute,letters cannot reach the hands of the dead.

2004.6.9