This time the violin played in struggle
to strip itself naked from drama...

This morning air slipped into my heart with
a somber spell; I inhaled displeasure...

..as more mornings continue to vigorously crack...
the little things resting on the edge of dust...

I draw the sun
between the shades of time...

Deeply and thoroughly
you strike in daylight...

Your absence spoke in crowds,
it said you came like a green cloud...

Are we more than emotions and clay?
Flesh and bones...

Behind the outworn branches, a white stream...
By: Rania Moallem...

Collab with Britt
Dreary gusts blow dutifully...

You were not my past;
you were the lost intervals...

My eyes can no longer embrace
staring at the vividness of this...

There are pieces of me
on the couch...