the first memory about myself my earliest memory of God
and the last but one recollection of light
is reduced to an invisible point
which dwells in a hollow with orange walls
and two small windows throughout which one can watch it with both eyes
while he is praying in his church

the church in the baby's bosom is an ever dimmer dot
full of light
which I too entered in order to pray
that I may find you

we met each other at the Cape of the Eleven Thousand Virgins
in was spring
when I saw you the blood rushed out of my body and began running towards you
hammering on the bell board

by some unknown miracle I survived
I drew closer to You walking beneath stones
the rainbow was seething above the waxen stones suspended over the sea

you would have told me to believe in things and in mankind
as if I were but a small worthless dot
meant to shatter the Sun with its own light

you said nothing.