They swim like tadpoles.
Thoughts...

Somebody had put the feet
against the flame...

There was once a worried face
who unbuttoned...

Looked downward -
the granite face...

Your lips were me.
I wanted a kiss...

When terror strikes,
fear inside you...

There was the hunger
and suicide...

A pink rose was set to strip
letting the leaves fall...

An acid dropp burns your lips,
dares you to question...

It was a dirty war
of moat...

On a hollow path
you had failed...

They manipulated the words
to cross the corridors of essence...