Please, don't mind my stare.
There's nothing wrong with how you look...

You may question the motives
of the hanging sun...

I suppose your phantom will eventually seize me,
whether it may be at the trains of midnight...

He painted my skin with graceful bars
smudged in awestruck pen & falling hand...

I'm told that time
conspires against...

I dreamed of you last night,
regrettably...

Put down your drink, whatever it is, set it aside.
I know you seek comfort now but will you be...

I picked up the blade
like it would help me sow...

Summer serenades
me with her softness...

I know you hate labels
but here, I don't feel cornered...

The stigma of your eyes
unnerves me as I fumble...

Towards the sun, there seems to be
a water full of memories...