Paper wasps tend?
to simulate. What...

Sundown
body becomes blue...

I am done for,
jumping the wall of...

When huge trees
walk, the rocks...

Thoughts?
were not picking the words...

You had arranged
the words to invite me...

You walk in air
without leaving footprints...

Don't come near sea,
I ask the moon, braless...

Shrinking like the
face of moon, dark truth slips...

Birth of dark secrets
would extend in black light...

It was a perfect
cover...

Killing field
was still red...