Inspector:
            “Look madam, I have this warrant for a house raid.
             There’s a whole team with me! But I’ve stationed them far up the street.
             I thought, I alone will do.
             What we need is a particular essay. What good will scandal do you?
             Why don’t you bring it out to us yourself?
             Or, where in the house is it hidden? Just show it to us.”

I hadn’t seen my house this way before.
I can hear my heart racing in the doors and walls,
blood dripping from veins of iron and stone,
warm breaths, vigilant eyes, lips wide open,
repeating to me in hushed tones that promise
bound to this land for seven lifetimes—
My four walls are the earth in your embrace.
Brief moments of peace are my duty toward you.
So many vaults appeared before me.
So many possibilities, whose doors opened that day.
Tunnels of my desires emerged beneath my feet.
On their walls, the seven colors of life gleamed.
Now, new essays will be written on the city wall.
Oh, passing moments! I swear upon your ruined honor,
the street where my house sits, its dust is red,
and beyond this window, a tulip blooms.
And so, the root of this fear is just an old book.
Pull aside this curtain and look—at the vision of my future.