The word they share
and bite hollows the topic.
The emptiness expands the bite,
Its cracks are black holes.

That's all that is known about that.
Nobody knows anything about that.
The flavor, nothing more, sticks to the bones,
We carry the emptiness into which we fall.

The void, nothing more, travels with us.
This is this feeling,
in nothingness the skin hardens
about spacing the body and bulking it out
and gain weight without atmosphere,
nobody knows anything.

The stain, the octopus on the arm,
It covers his skin like someone who ties up,
and summons I don't know what loneliness,
nobody knows anything.

For what purpose the shadows cover it,
no one knows or no one wants to know
of the darkness more than the touch
with the name that remains volatile
until final silence.

How the silence grew in her
until burying her alive.
Nobody knows anything about that.