The craft of
creating darkness in
bright sun.
...
Upgrading clock
was not a wise decision.
Who will read the past?
...
On the wings of night
moon sails to fell cherry blossom,
I will pick for you.
...
Your intent was to
peel off the frozen poem from
my lips to taste it.
...
Polis intercepts
the palace, grieving on the
body of an old horse.
...
The savage moon
will not stop at passionate
kiss and embrace.
The pansies were ready
...
Way beyond I will
come, to accept a farewell
invite, being mortal.
...
A clear sky to sit
under the stars, in your gaze
to find missing moon.
...
Watching in shifting
stance of futurism, I will
be choosing frozen―
pains of the past.
...
How far you can go
to remain dumb and dare
to become legless?
...