The poems I write ,
seem to understand me more...
I'll take your comments with a grain of salt
Because I like salty food...
I am in awe of the translation of your eyes
from forgotten languages of dreams...
Creativity
Please don’t mind me...
Ah, thunder strikes again
All that remains are ashes...
Sunlight pours through closed blinds
Casting a row of light beads on my pillow...
All my ventures in the flesh of grapes
were because...
last night, i dreamt of your hands wrapped tightly
around my neck, wringing it like a hand-washed...
The lamest of ducks
can inflict a nasty wound...
The smell of your smoke still lingers,
reminding me of one more thing that you refuse to...
Hope ripples
below the river banks...
Consumed by your spirit
i am stuck in a winter tomb...