Imagine a crocodile,
atrociously, devouring...
It's the last crumble of
summer. The quotidian...
Touch me,
I am turmuric and lemongrass...
We still play
hide and seek...
The curtains took care
of the obtrusive sunrise that crawled...
I think you were the view.
You gave these heights...
I threw
all my stones...
Look, the celsius degrees
are sneering at our thirst...
You realize it’s been days
on canned soup, and...
Has the mirror always
looked this bulbous and greasy...
In an air-conditioned,
crowded mall...
all eyes were on
that sorceress wearing...