That satanic streak
of tireless undressing...

Nothing was beholden.
Colony counts were perfect...

Like a butterfly pinned
in a collage, fluttering...

The secular love:
you are contaminated...

Leave something for me to imagine.
A skeleton in a pond...

When I was arranging daffodils
you send in tanks...

By the moon
I drink you again...

In your domain
walking with men of straw...

Drunk with pride
the streets are bursting...

The moral dilemma was
unlearning...

Spooked by a two headed snake,
a double of a living person squirms...

Knowing too much
was painful...