Spring breeze brought back the yearning,
that I left in ice last November.
Between the mattres, I hid your letters.
And each time I read them
I shattered into pieces

A piece got stuck in the floorgap,
another in the hair of carpet.
I never collected them back.

Stains on the paper shine in the darkness.
Though, I'm looking for a way out of them
I was lost in...