Traversing atopia
I am touching your belly button...

When you were rolling in dust,
a puritan said, truth was me...

When saline drowns the lips,
my words tremble...

Mounting surveillance
on myself after snapping...

It was
a graceful exit...

This paper lantern in lake
was in love with you...

If,
I was not afraid of...

The king
made a fun of our poverty...

Living my own way
like flint...

Death was the beginning. My emancipation.
Death of pre-memory thoughts. I am ready to...

Blue poppies were poised
to meet the regret of thighs...

The space in between?
the mayhem and spiritual hour...