(This is the third time I am writing this piece...

Clips of a terror campaign
were on TV, that day...

**
an elephant-cloud...

They are witnesses
of so many rebirth of springs...

We are all diced up
boiled individuals, you know...

Her fingertips play on my bark,
tapping a rhythm...

Don't fritter away an entire winter
staring out of your pensive window...

After you left, I noticed
my arms have been tied up...

"On the eastern side it will be!"
pointed a middle-aged person...

Delicate lips
innocent eye...

Yesterday I drafted a letter
for you. Tough worded. But the lines...

My smallish playground
is with grasses worn out...