The corner of the room remained closed
As if the aura of your silence stayed there
And couldn't be touched, as long as we lived.
Father. When life became a dream of death,
A mad dream without even the excuse of sleep,
I tore the curtain.
At night I slept in the arms of your quiet.

Background: after the death of the father. The father used to sleep in a curtained corner of the room. My mother speaks.