a spider jumps
webs rain in living room...
you alter
the moon...
at midnight,
i want to tip toe my way...
O little insect,
these windows are all ruddy, florid and silky...
The freedom was never gained
whether after...
Before the game of gamble starts
it is already paid for...
stars whisper
to the ear...
Through as an arrow,
the might of all my aspires...
Rescuing sculptures
from the rugged boulders is...
It was only for a few moments
but they were infinite...
All in silver and grey,
in the dying bed...
Time swallowed by suppressive smog,
To much of it spent in a depressive fog...