The timbre of a crying dog burning in the...
unsettling like unknown...

Poetry is the might
to individuate the most latent blooms...

She puts the knife on the lamb’s throat
but seeing the innocent lamb in the eyes...

You the killer of my father.
You the pain...

There was always me loving you
no past, no future...

Breeze,
the cool bed-sheet of white dreams...

The black man Jazzes
and fire...

Was I ever P like a penguin, living in icy...
or free like the D...

God is the basic good,
The rest, one, has to learn alone...

When the wind
at its hasty ingress...

You are so quiet
but your silence is quite loud...

Is transparency a soul,
something all the clear things share...