In slap at your icarian path
the call was not taken...

A whisperer with its begging bowl
wants a moon in alms...

Was that a robot
claiming friendship...

He was not him,
today the day ended with a boom...

Hydrangia was in full bloom
when I left...

A scented moon caves in
on a tree top...

I climb up the stairs to know
How much you need...

I was learning, how
not to catch you...

Unslept-
hangman, flees from the noose...

The matrix drinks the words,
in the anonymity of opaque meanings...

A perpetual war between
frame and content feeds...

Round dahlias.
Your eyes have started speaking...