Sexist barbs against
wooden breasts, street-smart...
You will find one day,
water footprints, when...
Will not put any claim.
Neonate my poem...
No final goodbye. No poetic
apology. No introduction...
After the sunset,
the moon comes out whitewashed...
Stream becomes like the flow of milk,
when falls on rock of hardness...
In a pair, they were flying:
two monarch butterflies...
It was a basic instinct.
You wanted to become something...
She felt bright and shiny
and a little bit new...
Your thin white skin spreads
on the front. The blue...
Candystripe petals peek
through deep green leaves...
The snow:
Pounding the earth, trees...