What a hugless night!
Such infectious cruelty...

O little insect,
these windows are all ruddy, florid and silky...

The freedom was never gained
whether after...

Before the game of gamble starts
it is already paid for...

Maybe you see it in your subconscious
the wound that more or less we all share...

They worshiped him in the book
for he sacrificed his life...

It is not your word
that I hear, it is you that...

We shall always bleed
out of these wounds, for living...

We are dreaming without me and you,
gasping oxygen from the bubbles...

I have seen THE horror
of where the truth...

Flow means this moment.
Now flows like a candle light...

I write haikus for
folks can't hear heart unless...