Your poetry was
a hyphenated struggle...
The beast
draws a circle for...
I was tired of
repeating mantras for...
Standing alone
in the ring of fire...
Sharing my sweetbread
with you in densely days when...
Mate, I don't know,
how to deceive you in bush...
In evening I need
to speak with my small voice...
What was your secret of?
cheating on me...
Taste of death, while
talking of stealthy footsteps...
Was it the end of senseless
striptease...
The wrinkles write
the age of weather's rings...
Even light will not
find your black hole, beyond...