When the hours were ours,
the minutes knew no limits,
and the days just flew away,
nothing to halt, nothing to delay.
...
I saw you tip-toe with a new bout of class,
with the eyes that they gave me that were carved out of glass.
...
tracer fire are our shooting stars.
in lines, following
like insects, ants.
...
Pacific eyes,
Tsunamis in my skies.
Coral reefs swaying, moving
To the pulse of the abyss.
...
Sweetheart Introvert,
blinded by the butterflies,
hidden in a cloak made out of cowardice.
In a land,
...