The only language known
Internal language no
I'm not a copy of a copy
I’m a student of betrayal
Neither pistillate nor male

Here lies nothing
Your paces retraced

Clear white
Nothing in the snow
The taste of regret

I’m a copy (the only language known)
Of a copy (internal language no)
Sitting in another body
Mist in a cup of couple
Crossed hair soon
I’m a copy of a copy