Burning the pages
unread...

Almost reached.
Your tongue slips...

A midnight craft
dumps the moon...

Let go the nightmares
and oneness...

Space has all the silent approval,
truth will not multiply...

No final goodbye. No poetic
apology. No introduction...

For a lake feel
to find the four-leaf clover...

I will watch the field,
but not play the game...

Schizoidly I walked
with the moon- by night...

Standing in the centre of a circle,
trying to reach the periphery...

Not afraid of any
wrath, I was quiet at the...

You wanted to understand
the tenor of wet, heavy lids &acirc...