Sometimes when I miss
my early morning bus...

He hunted for words,
while coloring her lips...

Silvery eagles
engraved on each side...

For you only,
a world may shrink...

Flanked by bushes, depressing trunks,
the path ahead appears tapered...

One dragonfly
sits motionless on his...

Horde of zebras grazing
on street...

A tempest swept away
mounds of whimpers...

I am held within a cobweb
of seduction, bound by it's nine letters...

I didn't consider the likelihood
that a morn would go by...

The feel of a noose around my neck
for so long...

Daylight is sprinkling upon
an infantry of trunks...