Tick-tock, tick-tock she tiptoe walked
towards my door...

Edited
How life and death...

There is a desert between our lips
that cannot be satiated by all the mirages of...

Life is in tears when you lose a friend,
like an empty path along the pine trees...

Dark hair
white teeth...

Just butterflies
could hover over flowers...

Is it a wander that I don't feel anything but...
I wonder...

They border us to make us fight.
When we are separated...

Beneath a flower
is a vase, is a flower garden...

My soul is so tempered and tamed
in that temple of a little bloom...

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

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