Urn was carring the snow
unmelted
like the soul of night.
It was a very strange winter
...
Code of the veil was
darkening. You were searching for an
unwritten message in bandanna.
...
It did not stay in bed for long
the ultimate.
Clouds climbed down from immortality.
...
Imperishable,
you keep the truth frozen
like the marrow, in the limbs of life,
producing blood cells
...
The falling poem was
in bruising gamble of winter
of troubled life,
bound to a staircase:
...
Give me back,
me back, my affections.
I had planted the kisses on
melting lamps.
...
Jinxed out
was the sex panel
on the honour’s integrity.
Deep water a fish
...
Like tussoh, I collect snow
after the blizzard, churning
the quartz, O December.
...