One day back home, my father took me and my older...
We played in that field until nightfall and then...

Life is a river:
a coarse sieve...

Stop the world.
Ease in a second...

Butterflies,
oozing from...

All these roads are as the result of lashes
on the body of the Christ...

She is always dances amid her skirt.
Horizons always are very...

What a pernicious time this year was for me.
what a serrated dagger...

Drawn-out and broad
on the cobblestone...

Days are sliding away in disdain,
let fall...

For the sake of silence,
we have to distance ourselves...

The dance
was every improvisation between solid and ethereal...

The fruit to die for:
The apple of neighbour’s bough...