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

The penumbra of Illumination.
The echo of birds’ footsteps in silence...

The bride moon waltzes
with shadow nocturne groom of...

You are somebody
when you learn...

I dream of you
in jazz...

I hear the sound of the violin
long before it begins...

Is it a wonder what I am in nothingness?
I wonder...

My Nadia was dead!
I knew it like the the dreadful taste of birth in...

The puddle always individuates itself against the...
even the rain constantly increases the puddle...

An Old Poem
After forty-eight hours...

Don't leave her.
Separation is not freedom...

Birds dwell on your boughs
just when they really know...