In the humid night
there was a circularity...
A fugitive moon
appeared, after the blaze of the sun...
Pushed aside and
sequestered, like a...
The moon titled her head
and went inarticulate...
This was a shock treatment.
Becoming friends...
The wind was in your hair,
I will bring the...
After the
elective execution...
I was worried.
A deviant had lost the shape...
Often,
I will return to myself...
The nectar,
coming from nowhere...
It was oneness,
which brought my poetry...
I don't find words.
Words will find me crying...