Statue

a thousand sculptures part of my night
You have perfected
at the shoot of the temple
at the peak of desire

my dreams are thrown
along with a thousand raven's rasping screeches
no more calculations
or romance
in the dimly lit netting
morning ahead
crowing chicken coming
a thousand sting centipedes
hunting you curse

a thousand grudges miss a thousand longs
bruised your soul that has stone
still brave my night passion
the green one
mother remembers

Statue
You have become a watcher
my dumb love