"it’s time to start the spectacle, like the feet going uphill putting them on the hot sand it was tried to rub them off with the sharp stones to bruise them with the blames thrown from generation to generation to drown them in the quicksand to close the notebook in this place and open it for old age not until twenty-five years later in some other place and in some other circumstances, and there are many stars left to discover we could name them all with the heliocentric dictionary of our session I guess I won’t be wrong, if I say that it is easier to get some kilograms lost going uphill but if that will relieve us from the sin? which is holding on to the human nature and with a flower called an orchid will change the way to the slope on which the last teardrop ripped away from science will flow down I know that your goal is my salvation give me this bench let me rest on the leafless tree painted with the blood from the wounds blazing with the world heat – I know, all is expanding, and a cut flower withers the red roses that sprouted on the concrete today they will forget the act of the non-aggression pact on the regular basis I gave you my mark in the form of a poem so inhumanly growing inside the mouth, your strength is inexhaustible a new point is falling on the foundation of the world the cobblestone spread with blood I understood, that I have no chance to retreat only to run ahead of me like the cosmos is expanding and maybe someone will turn off the light – and from my sweet round sentences from the gently rounded commas the venom is oozing out."