What a pernicious time this year was for me.
what a serrated dagger...

I saw your cold body,
I hugged your cold body...

It's a salted wound,
the death of your beloved...

The true motions of emotions,
deep scratches of commotion...

It was not a glass menagerie of thorns
it was a a flower house...

My take on Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's master...
I was from the nature of light and transparency...

Like a bird in the cage
of a unceasing movie of fly...

Their gifting spirits
live on in their absence...

This makes no sense.
What is this sound...

All my innocence
couldn't wow a wolf out of...

There is just one message
and everything else is...

O my beautiful butterfly
you are not so beautiful after all...