The wail fills the genesis;
you are not living in me any more...

When clouds were
drawing graffiti on sky...

A silent presence
huddled in the dark corner...

Between want and desire
few crumbs of words...

In the empty house
of snow...

Looking back at self-portrait
was bewitching...

Midnight encounter.
In moon, on sand...

Dark matters are floating
like bowls made of leaves...

Pearl - drops
on your upper lip...

After dousing the bride to a nice flame,
in between the howls...

The wait begins adorned with symbols
for shadow to fall...

To disconnect oneself
you push apart, from the stasis...