Night blinks.
Light sits under the door...
Trembling…
the burning coal has gone to sleep...
Be what you are.
As night falls...
The weight of the ideology
flattens your upheaved chest...
My bronzed speech is available,
accepting the defeat of daffodils...
When silence stays alone
in the hollow of the eyes...
Arithmetic becomes poetry,
when you start counting the stars in Milky Way...
Salt-of-the lips.
You never know, how it hurts...
You to whom, I
am lost, the remaining pain...
The heartwood had the ingrained
dream map, to reach the...
Wearing the red bandanna,
you tried to manipulate the bedrock...
Your interpretation
was a miracle of...