Trapped in the body of a snake
driving a car in the country road...

If you do not have conscience
You do not hear them...

People only see the act
they do not see the puppeteers...

What difference does it make
whether everything is happening in this corner, or...

I still carry his body across the barbwire of this...
carry this cross...

He wanted to be clear
but clarity turns to blank and one must die...

Don’t worry my love
your outer beauty, your withering bloom...

All these roads are the resultants
of the lashings...

You love me now.
~Ticking clock, ticking clock...

I am
a pendulum...

I am here
there for here is an extension...

Like for all the time
rain was pouring and I was dry...