Vision impaired.
The fear crawls in your poems...

How would you talk to?
your unborn child, when lynching...

Retrieve the ancient
mantra to invoke wandering...

If there was nothing
to chance at, we will not quit...

An ailing sun.
I grieve for a lost song...

That appears my last
race, though sun refuses to set...

Listen to wind in
dark. I was hurting myself...

The glass eye looks
at moon, caves in moonlight...

Your eyes return
to haunt me like falling...

The big toe
like some ego, breaks the syntax...

What would you like
to wear, when oracle's...

How far you can go
to remain dumb and dare...