They just see perspective
for their attention is conditioned...

Go on and forget about me.
Forget that I have ever lived...

Hand and guitar,
the corresponding frolics in the mirror...

In this glass menagerie
woeful and laughing veils...

Did the wound exist
as an appetency...

They all rot and fade
these shoots of expectation...

Hell is sediment
Whatever resist burning...

These rivers of cries are endless
because oceans are connected...

Tell me:
what is mightier...

On ephemerals,
I snooze while two butterflies...

Surviving the day
the new blossom is ought to...

Have I ever been
a D free like...