In a place redder
than this, miles radiating...

There's something, something,
something about you...

My poems
like the moon...

Sooth me lull me
in stillness...

Sorrow,
I’ll meet you tomorrow...

It’s not you
it’s her hips...

a green frog
croaks to leap...

a really silly and chilly boy
jumped into Spring Flowers...

It seems today the force is calling me.
It ask that I should write a sonnet...

I love you, still: like waters streaming tranquil
along a shore or a canal, just like that - still...

I see me not. I see me not.
I have no mirror to reflect me on...

When cellulite appears before my eyes
I see the dimples on the skin with fright...