The tibial spiking
now hurts...

There was an urgency-
to finish the job...

It is raining.
The water colors...

Your hands tremble,
when you accept...

Writing your own elegy in a
blocked artery...

Imperfect mating.
I am lurching forward...

Your comatose
countenance...

A wax house you were
gifted to live in sun...

After land slips it was
most surreal scene. Cadaveric...

The primal urge to undo-
your hair. I am going...

To shut the methane,
you sent...

Move on. O city, you
were not worth of...