When you walk
on moon in February, I take-down...

Sometimes,
you let it go...

Let me think without thoughts
to measure the mind, feel the crunching of words...

Keep the passion
to reach the moon...

Though inaudible, I will
hear you- clear and distinct...

When the night was swamping him
with epileptic frame...

The city was going to
fall. An earthquake...

I was at unease.
The violence grips the...

I borrow some words
from song birds and roses to...

Without narrating
yourself, when and how...

Knowing too much
was painful...

The hawk was always hatching
a pacer...