Small truths
of gun battle...
Your body, intense?
eats the sins...
Go to the speaking moon
to fell the stars...
Why did you cast
a net to catch...
Listening to green voice?
genderlessly...
The end of night had left
a bloody trail...
Some days I’m a wilted flower
yearning for the clouds to rain upon me...
Facing the music
of intrigues, the cuckoo...
Numerical death
walks quietly in the ruins...
Your face swims like
a myth...
You cannot bisect
the darkness...
With silver spoon, I
cannot eat your words...