In small pieces
you come back to live
in my dark poems.
...
No more I will
confront you in rain after
imprint of peach lips.
...
When I bring moon,
flower, will you simmer in
haemophilia?
...
It was a celebration.
You were ready to start
self-questioning.
...
Standing alone
in darkness of stairwell
searching light.
...
Tell me how to break
the moon, when night weeps
to bring home stars.
...
My inguinal pain,
watching mating of moons,
at bank of tears.
...
Moon winks.
I collect darkness
to make sun.
...