Crucifixion,
shapes, squares, angles, planes...
There was a path of brief moments
_at the table in the park...
You call my poems ancient,
yet read them as if they breathe...
Where are you?
Are you now walking...
It is so nice
To hear you voice...
Resting my head upon a pillow
My throat starts to tingle...
You sold my soul
That was sick...
Paul
Come to me now...
I still not tired of living
Also I am happy...
In the Name of Christ
I asked...
Nothing unjust
is ever erased...
I already lost
Some of my hearing...