This is a wonder whirling in my skull
like an echo, a susurration, I can hear and...

I am
a pendulum...

Why do we trust
the tyranny of sizes...

I have been kept a prisoner,
a prisoner of being alive...

Oh, little goldfish,
leaning upon your throne of glass...

Your purity is my temple—
a spring, a crystal pool...

It was a song—
that reminded me...

Me and you
lover and foe...

They think they do not like me.
They doubt of my goodness to be...

There was always me loving you
no past, no future...

In the even scales
of fangs there are no justness...

In twilight
on the turning toe of...