When clouds were
drawing graffiti on sky...

A silent presence
huddled in the dark corner...

Between want and desire
few crumbs of words...

In the empty house
of snow...

Looking back at self-portrait
was bewitching...

Midnight encounter.
In moon, on sand...

Dark matters are floating
like bowls made of leaves...

Pearl - drops
on your upper lip...

After dousing the bride to a nice flame,
in between the howls...

The wait begins adorned with symbols
for shadow to fall...

To disconnect oneself
you push apart, from the stasis...

The show is on.
Sedition will play with death now...