Am I a gem wrapped in cotton balls,
or a worm, inside the flesh of an apple...

Worshipping in everywhere in a rose leaf
or in a celebration of the day in a drop of water...

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...