Lover of the dark
You mystery thief...

The dark was a friend
For their tango...

She was pounding yam
For her husband...

My mother would hiss
At a youth smoking indian hemp...

Esoteric realities are round us
But we are too busy to notice...

The dawn is welcome
After black long hours...

They are waiting for
My money to finish...

It was a meal for seven days;
He ate the meat on Sunday...

Sometimes we fear what people may do
When we brag...

With dark blood
You heave air in your breast...

Hear again the sobs
Perceive the demure...

He was his mother's son
Before he joined the army...