What we are born in them as identities
are never as shameful as...

Darkness like mirrors
echoes all our intentions...

I am he who built the Persepolis,
Babylon, the wall of china...

Whiteness in my heart
I avalanche from winter...

Absolute
is the silence of a canvas...

Upon the perspective of the oppressive past,
the fragments of bygone prospects...

On ephemerals,
I snooze while two butterflies...

Effulgence
spawns on the transparent pons...

We built our coffin from the planks of our habits.
We have no choice but to be obedient to our death...

You are incurable
Because you are your own disease...

The crucifixion of these geometrical shapes
in the air...

Do you remember our dawn
where awareness first...