In that cafe I penned my poems
pinned a living butterfly of my heart...

How many worms have you cooped up
in the beaks of your wide kisses...

You don't know the sleuth
you must've hidden your wrongs from...

Just through the cadence
of withering these flowers...

How come is your absence more present than your...
How come world is suddenly this empty...

The war of good and evil
is the battle of beauty and ugliness...

When loud, God is mute
When we turn silent though God...

A poem is the
iteration of every...

I don't believe in
any religion because...

A stream forever
crosses enclosed by the two...

Something immeasurable and dissonant
still soft and sensual...

Whatever we decide and do
forever would change and alter the world...