Often,
I will return to myself...

A fact of time. The
relationship...

I will come and meet
you in absence of past...

Skin bleached in moon,
you prepare yourself tonight to hit the mystry...

Incandescent?
the oil lamps floating...

Your own shelter of erected pretentions is...
but you don't want to come out from the cage...

This was an obscene observation,
seeing through one's mind...

Arising before the dawn,
to meet the earth...

This music was insane.
Do not pluck the wounded apples...

The evening wind tapped me on the shoulder
gently and said...

Stares down, the grey
moon, fixedly...

I can do it, hold the wasp
in my palm? without grains...