Decoding the self-portrait
in false exposure from me...

Not the salt.
The water hurts...

There was soft
purring. Inviting but malicious...

Simple hearted priest
asks me to stay dead. The mystery...

The ultimate, unsung?
spreads out...

Very grim. You
promote the copperheads...

Again you took a wrong path
to meet the angel...

Skin deep, the moon
goes with me...

I believe, I had not arrived
when you were arbitrating...

You evoke the desire.
I break like bougainvillea leaves...

Will not donate
my bloodstained shirt...

Moon crazed fonts
starting a genocide of words...