Believing in my own myths,
just to remember your face, I am
sketching you with the knife on my palm.
...
Nature was conservative.
I was writing new poems, killing
the stories. There was pain for pain.
...
Do you think love has
failed dismanteling faith? Life
is no more real. It crushes you to say lie.
...
Life rattles you so hard, that
you were going to become a clown on
the verge of committing chaste crimes.
...
To become whole after
surgical fall was very difficult. Take
a look. Was invincibility intact?
...
O moon, evergreen diva,
you come back in blue lake when
butterflies come to swim.
...
My mouth burns.
I speak, because I don't want to
speak. It was the red rose, responsible.
...
The hymn, an unentered
temple, you come in pause.
There was uncanny space between words.
...
From the first encounter
to first kiss of black hole at precise
moment of spaghettification.
...
O absent one, I cannot
face the deluge of dots and dashes.
You have become me.
...