We sculpt our idols on our own
from the stone we carve and chisel...

It's often harsh and
unmusical for we can't...

edited
Just a morning dew can wrap its arm around an...

What am I to do when the gladiolus cannot stretch...
this vase of loneliness anymore...

Whenever we learn that our past
is not just limited to our memories...

Do not leave your Aphrodite in marble uncarved and...
do not be afraid of the chisels of truth...

You hurt the true hearts and try to hide it from...
You hide your fangs...

The anniversary of my fathers departure
Now...

First, I learned that
my aunty was schizophrenic...

Blankness of canvases and silence of guitars
are pouring over horizons...

A kiss hit me like a clout
and I instantly forgot my own whereabout...

Looking upon the red canvass
of flower buds...