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
...
Would you become
my plaque one day?
Unknowingly, unspoken?
...
Dying inside, every
day, inch by inch, to save
the silent lips.
...
The craft of
creating darkness in
bright sun.
...
A clear sky to sit
under the stars, in your gaze
to find missing moon.
...
Way beyond I will
come, to accept a farewell
invite, being mortal.
...
Random fall from moon
descending into riots
wants to err again.
...