For years,
you made me carry shame...

“In the final analysis,
even love is unreal...

How could one beseech
with all their existence...

It doesn’t matter
if you’re not with me tonight...

They come in boxes
alluring, ribbon-tied...

In the desert of Christian land,
where Christ would never touch the sand...

Before he could finish
his figure eight...

In the smoky alleyways where shadows spoke louder...
"Master," the apprentice said, fire in his voice...

What wounds you inflict upon this heart—
yet you do not know...

Have you ever drunk
from the goblet of yourself...

An Old Poem
After forty-eight hours...

In the weight of all they say,
they reach weightlessness...