The dust blends with
the humid specks...

An extreme smog descends
on your eyes. A heavy haze envelops...

The depression,
in purple moon...

The flames had
not reached the sun. Moon...

A restive moon
went on skirmishing with...

Knife for knife.
Shadows were chasing...

Like runaway water
you run to meet your lover...

It was a turf war.
The moon was booby-trapped...

While I limp,
a schizo runs parallel with the moon...

A decapitated
thought, writes a new scribble...

In fending off, the questions,
after mutilation...

Afraid to ask, the white
fingers, to write a name on black paper...