We continue to pit two tiny hillocks
Against the infinity of sky bending
Dangerously upon the brown bush
With a gray smoke in the elevation.
We have a man and a woman near,
They have no faces but cheekbones.
A rock gets angry with a loud bang
With machines making it look small
In the bigness of the bluest scenery.
Woman bathes in emptiness of rock.
Rock falls into emptiness of morning.
As smaller holes bath in bigger holes
Brown bushes bath in their shadows.
Holes have shadows in themselves.
Shadows have no holes in a scenery.
There are tiny eruptions in shadows
Like lizards in holes quickly catching
Tiny eruptions to eat their emptiness.
We are in a hurry to pit two tiny hills
Against the infinity of breathless sky
Before it eats them into its emptiness.