Bigotry, is that you with
the lost numbers...
An old butterfly wing
entangled in a web...
Slowly awakes the dawn,
Her chorus, spilling out in notes of joy...
Oh summer, you are gone but not forgotten
The bright green leaves that you’ve perfectly...
Whatever he is,
all filled with yellow...
a rose as red as blood has bloom
and birds have come to see it now...
Like a mole, she was
coming up, tunneling...
The orifice was absent
from the face...
To become or not to become a renegade,
or to die or not to die for a semi-god...
Snowflakes fall like feathers
during chaotic winds, landing...
a mountain
turns into...
A winter queen now owns the stage
the lock and chain, falls from her cage...