In this
Heatwave,
When my
Bed becomes
...
They've
Asked me
To chop off
The tree as
...
He's so much
Enmeshed in me
That sometimes
When I speak
...
They don't
Have the
Guts to
Ask me
...
She's so
Gentle as
The breeze
...
I know
I'm
Crumbling
Inside
...
Plums and
Pears and
Summer
Fruits -
...
Sometimes
My mind is
Foggy and
Hazy just
...
The thought
Of my son
Leaving my
Home is
...