I write
to deaden the traffic...

Burn my soul in silence;
watch me glint...

You were not my past;
you were the lost intervals...

You stroke the spine
of my iceberg...

Yesterday,
my heart was embroidered...

Your absence spoke in crowds,
it said you came like a green cloud...

I fear
the shafts of dawn...

I hope those pieces you stole from me
can fill the gaps of your soul...

I leave for you my past
and the last paddle in the sea...

I draw the sun
between the shades of time...

I set fire to dusk hours.
Clouds of poison...

Find me.
In dim corners...