Life is not easy
for easiness is death, hence...

The tail of a dog
diving into the water...

Am I a gem wrapped in cotton balls,
or a worm, inside the flesh of an apple...

An unbitten apple
is the apple that is dined by its own worms...

Where everything is versified to be uttered
and sublime is not external and pretended...

So deep in my ears
there is a song...

Everything is running,
seemingly towards somewhere...

Ticktock-ticktock
thus said the mockingbird of a clock...

She was passing coastlessly across the coasts
when I saw her...

Are the trees just acting out their loneliness,
their separation from the fire...

like waves
on the faraway shores of soft sands...

Comme je t'aime
"I love you for all the women I have not known...