transparent words; the strings still dangle
from the same lips that sprouted them...

those three syllables that drank from tropical
waters, grew roots that tapped into the alveoli...

april, with bloodied fists, heaving breath finds
respite where your clavicle meets your sternum...

swaddled by light, you set the night sky aglow,
when you skim by the waters when you dance...

of the lands that you and I know –
we know intimately, that this land...

your cheeks pinken like cherry-blossoms coming to,
on a warm spring morning, on this crisp april...

sometimes, words aren’t enough: there's the...
ubiquitous, overlapping when it comes to you...

the literature of you can be summarized
in one word – loneliness...

we’ve run out of the primordial –
stalling stars, spinning chaotically...

and it’s summer again, your words still linger...
i don’t remember what was said, that much was...

The shadow visits me when the moon
unravels his luminous beauty, swaying...

when the sky blossoms mauve,
the words we marinated with...