Focused on burgundy palms
as the age blinks...

Your alignment
with sea was not perfect. You...

My killing instincts
were intact...

Death in meadow
on leaves, under the sky...

Something was always
missing. I wouldn't...

The credibility
of an apple...

An evening primrose glides,
on my rough hands...

Bounty
of landfall...

The moon scrambles on
the fragrance of the trees...

Poverty of thoughts
beats you endlessly...

The cult
catches you...

It was all white.
You wanted to see the interruption...