Is it in the accuracy of sensibility
that patterns come to the sense...

The true love is when
one love something for itself...

She found her true face
a mask amongst so many...

She put on a mask
realizing her old self...

-“You have deflowered all the blooms in the...
You deserve to be dead...

Sea water inflames
my guts like a lonely man...

In the dusk
on the pivoting toes of...

Being innocent
is the most punishable...

Life was fairytale
prior to my father’s death...

There is just personal death
and collective continuum...

Dark hair
white teeth...

Write them on the sand
Don't carve your words on the rocks...