Rains are gone.
trains are gone...

Beside these forlorn shades,
there are no realities to my existence...

Our conscience is the
very presence of others...

Life means the amnesia of death,
the amnesia of existence of the death...

The loneliest tree
in the citrus garden is...

~~revised~~
"I love you for all the women I have not known...

You, my creation, my art,
you every throb...

Pots
brewing on the burners of these corroded...

In the swirl of eternity,
right at the throat of an hourglass...

like a moth that was going towards the fire.
I have seen you in darkness...

Like a sponge that soaks
our share of moist...

To break or not to break,
this is the question...