I'll be dying between two pages today,
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They'll be counting the knots on the wire today.
it's grown thinner in so many places,who would have thought?
They all knew when they gave it to me.

They've changed the watercolours today,
painted a yellow spot on my forehead,
you know, it was supposed to be violently bright,
what a pity the water in the glass had long muddied.

Yes I see, they're drawing all the new shapes.
All words have left the lines.
The ink might be invisible on the skin,
but the writing remains.

You draw the line further, ok?
lift me up, i'll be staining the sheet,
I'll be dying between two pages today,
write the full stop.

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