there are rooms that have no windows
so in the world of the heart there are windows with no rooms 

among the buzz of honey bees
torn things and the skin of a heart
sparkling rain on a summer’s day
and dead things

you stand still, in silence
even if your heart, lost
before things took shape, 
cries out from the window

my ears do not hear her voice
my eyes listen to her voice

Ryuichi Tamura, tr. Takako Lento

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