A grand applause is what I heard
from behind a well pleated curtain...

The moon whispered
his last blessings...

I wrote poems with
letters that do not exist...

He sat two steps below her
right on his side, his burnt...

I left my dresser-drawer slightly open,
for your spirit to slip and escape this...

I braided the roots of a tree
to save within a music box...

Within an hourglass,
blood was dripping as...

They called me a psychopath,
but you looked into my eyes...

Dreams burning
underneath a chimney...

She calmly approached him,
while he was carving a wooden bird...

His knife slowly went through the corners,
as he carefully carved broken crayons...

Floating objects on
a calm sea riding on crests...