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

To Misty Flower
Your birthday is when beauty was born...

I wish I were the pivotal point
at the centre of gravity...

Ticktock-ticktock
thus said the mockingbird of a clock...

We lost our genders to love.
We lost our voices to love...

So deep in my ears
there is a song...

Where everything is versified to be uttered
and sublime is not external and pretended...

Only kids feel the suffocation,
adult are already suffocated...

From nothing to everything
we are...

If you can not love anymore
if your ark of feeling have sank in the mud...

The abyss of shapes
drop to drop...

Beauty shines
in the crystals of your eyes...