Wanted to visit old lanes
for a mocking bird...

Was it a summer storm of sexuality?
Only the chaste statue stood in threads...

A primordial fear takes over.
These pathways are not reaching anywhere...

Sitting on the lap of a moonbeam
transcript of a gender...

Detaches,
a part of me. To find some space...

Man becomes a bee
assaulting a rosebud...

It was getting dark.
The insane curve of greed was rising...

You come home,
to a genocide of sperms...

Death will not listen;
still, the candle burns...

I collect the unknown fears,
better than the known...

A mob rapes a moon
under the blue sky...

Nothing makes or breaks now.
I will not know you...