We did not want to meet,
fierce migrants, wanting to fit in...

Standing on familiar soil
I see the echoes...

It’s not that you are lost
it’s that I am gone...

As a small child
I made a big promise...

In the beginning
you gathered the wood...

I’ve been addicted
to words since...

Grace knows
Grace knows...

When the dark
waters of complexity...

I prefer setting intentions
of goodness to...

Lacuna*
If you go into yourself...

She who puts herself together
with perfection is hiding the secret...

Wistful wisteria
lays in wait...