The Searcher came in search To find messages from a multitude of hearts White rose I picked up from the pavement  During my first departure  Air rose dipped in the red ink Changing color Making rhythms in a dark room I painted  Your face with a clean brush Why are…

All those stones Placing them on a pillow on the chest holding drapes filling holes  filing edges Now in the palm of my hand walking on those hands as the soles of my feet are kissed contused with purple hue and you become the stone I carry