Between that time and this
there has been always now...

Space is the separation
from us...

Omnipresence is weaved
when the threads of time entwine...

Imperfection is
the prove of perfection...

All my ventures in the flesh of grapes
were because...

A mid-phase moon
is a sand machine...

With you I'm begun,
no more a phantom...

I feel like fatigue and somnolence are drifting me...
but I know I shall not succumb to this lethargy...

He noticed
nobody listens...

Everything ends
everything...

Just butterflies
could hover over flowers...

Dark hair
white teeth...