They once held peace in the grips of their fists
dancing the joy and happiness...

Interior deserts,
vague litanies for someone who died leaving all...

It is late,
too late for me to close my eyes and sleep...

It's madness,
to hate all roses because you got scratched by...

All I ever wanted was a simple smile
but you were so busy laughing...

It own thirst sustains it.
The things all arounf it sustain it...

Each one goes however he can
Some with the breast ajar...

By now death won't face the mirrors.
Afraid of erasing or breaking them...

She might be old
with a sagging skin...

I could feel the heat from the sun melt on me
Clouds seemed beautiful...

A kiss.
Delicate...

she came to me in my dreams,
floating like clouds on a sunny day...