War begins
the moment...

The Bomb Has No Eyes
The predators do not see innocence...

Looking into the paradox
of distance and destination...

The bird,
an agitation...

Nurses see only
old lesions but for patients...

Whenever
we are losing...

In the darkness,
all the inks in the world...

My poetry is not poetry really,
if poetry is doomed...

Was it always this way,
or just my oblivion was the sleigh...

Samurai moves smooth,
his body, tuned to the pulse...

How imprisoning
our liberty seems when we've...

Dear Mama, don’t die—
please...