Tracing a wrinkle
I ended at far beyond...

The black man Jazzes
Inferno tangoes my soul...

And this is me:
the Prometheus of poetry...

The entire world
is whitened from within...

Buzz!
This was...

Love brings every side of wounds together
and sew through them with pang...

When would this vagabondage end?
Where, my friend...

Don't stretch your arms
like the branches...

Look how the moth swapped
its withered yellow wings with...

Every now and then
a poem coiled in scroll of an acumen...

He wished to tell though
he chose silence instead so...

In the oscillation of an accordion
we were gasping...