Blowing the figures
in the figureless boulders...
God is dead
God is a star so far that it is...
You did not see the father’s big soul.
You did not see God from the keyhole...
You know this stranger,
don't you...
In the sweetest sway; in the blurry line between
the dreamscape and the disembodied reality...
The moon,
draped in a curtain of silk...
A tree cut down is a
a child chopped...
The room has walls lined with wallpaper that is...
dark rust...
If I could let you know,
again, how abnormal it is...
In a kiss two souls
wake up the sleeping beauty...
Loneliness is a
distance that could never be...
Unable to see the derision
of themselves...