Upon the ripples of a soft night,
the stillness envelops me like a coffin...

I think of my hands as a tofu-press,
and dig into your skin a smidge harder...

In the sweetest sway; in the blurry line between
the dreamscape and the disembodied reality...

and to which sin do I have to blame,
for being forced into tendering...

you inhabit me. every breath taken is drawn to the...
you florally scent the air, and the irony is not...

With the waning light of the moon
stripping flesh from my bones...

There’s too much blood here, too much blood to...
in any meaningful way – I spill poetry, and it...

The nights are starting to stretch into early
evenings – where there once was a boundless...

And I draw breath, parting myself down
the seam like a hairline fracture forming...

I, who has nothing,
but the remnants of your...

Around three in the morning
your soul was still fluttering...

Are you still there?
I did something horrible, and not the...