With the posture 

yielding everything to myself,

the brightness receding from the face,

the eyes sunken, the ankles, the upper arms, the wrists

torn apart, collapsing right in front of my eyes.

(this is one of my works “inertia,” which happened, 

and will stay with my body, forever)

bending the body forward,

and looking for the toes never coming out of the bottoms of the trousers,

slipping the arms to the forgotten sleeves,

hooking the buttons on the chest onto the time nobody knows,

wiping the breath,

a tumbler, though it was handed, slipped from the hand,

making the clear sound,

onto the cold ground,

regardless of the ears,

regardless of the long time of silence

till this planet is covered 

with the air.

Putting my cheek on the soil,

with a blink 

never again redeemed.