Young-ha Kim

I was forty-five at the time of my last murder. Looking back, it dawns on me that my father was also forty-five the year he suffocated under the pillow. What a strange coincidence. I’m writing this down, too.

Abiding nowhere, give rise to the mind.”

So, in the emptiness, no form,

No feeling, thought, or choice,

Nor is there consciousness.

No eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, mind.