It is a statue
in the middle of a storm,
a bed sheet
looking for a ghost
and a lie
seeking for a cover.
It is a time capsule
that was never buried,
the memory from those days
that is competing for the sword.
It is the inside of a cave
on a starry night,
each wave that comes and goes
on a missing beach.
It is a tired gaze
and a lazy twist.
It is to be back
without knowing how to return.
