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I once heard that Tokyo, at night, is like a lost...
There are no businessmen to see, to act unbroken...
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I remember
a little house in Italy atop a sloping hill...
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Feel the breeze cold,melody chime
Overhaul shadows belong the rhyme...
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Spontaneous. Instantaneous. Our thoughts are
like time bombs marking away...
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I still don't know
who you are or if you are...
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Yesterday
I was haunted by fingerprints...
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I think about death in the morning
while combing my hair, examining...
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You are not obligated
to pick a brush and paint...
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Forget me around your neck
and for an instance...
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They creeped and crawled,
caressing the cracked earth...
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I daily traverse
a flat terrain of logic...
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I swear to tell the truth,
and nothing but the whole truth...