The myopic tongues
of tall trees, going downhill
to find the roots of four-letter words of dead,
unspoken, but sung in dark.
...
Absurdity was waylaid
like a black swan on the
grass shaking a leg.
...
Was that a robot
claiming friendship
with the relics of past?
...
It was a freak accident of epithelium
under anaesthesia.
You place a window
on to a hollow brain.
...
Must I give you
the chilled truth of dry winds
till the fire
reaches the backyard?
...
Drowning in my blood
the vampire had
the lapse of consciousness.
I embraced the night
...
A golden cave was afraid
Of a blue thrust.
Hands were not able to console
the mirror.
...
O viola,
go over the grapes
and find an ageless green.
...