THE HEART

Not a voice, not a sound
living within it.
If I plunge my hand I take out
shadow;
my pupil,
night;
my word,
thirst.
As nothing peoples the desert,
so is solitude:
as the falling of a stone in a dream,
so is solitude.
Like shadow,
night,
thirst,
true death,
impassive and upright in its kingdom,
reigning awaits.