When the day is sunny again
but it’s not quite clear, I walk in the fields
of the empty carnival
built on the ruins of some totalitarian regime.
There I sit down in the grass,
letting the stinkbugs crawl to my cheeks, and the ants fly about my ears.
There, in the grass, I find the set of keys I thought I had been looking for.
I find a lone statue erect amongst the trees, depicting two lovers almost touching- but not quite, and I put the keyring I found around the limp finger of the boy made of stone.
I see a snake.