We still play
hide and seek...
We were not bowerbirds
boasting a secluded coast...
It was a fickle afternoon.
Up on the roof of your sixth floor apartment...
This city is a sad play,
with the most bone-chilling...
Tonight the river is calm,
summer is approaching. A white...
On my way to
the sad suburbs, where...
I always dreamed that
in the mountains, I would...
I wrap myself
in cotton compliments...
The night is made
for dreaming...
One day, when all of this ends,
we will collect our bones...
Artistry
You hold a pencil in your hand...
I am going to pick shadows
before it ends...
Left behind by migration
I could only...