I dream of myself,
for that is where...

Could you, at least in silence,
confess you love me back...

The bird,
an agitation...

Samurai moves smooth,
his body, tuned to the pulse...

Dear Mama, don’t die—
please...

Upon my heart—
the diary...

An artist creates
only in the presence of light...

The Bomb Has No Eyes
The predators do not see innocence...

War begins
the moment...

Why do we trust
the tyranny of sizes...

The breeze whispered to me:
see...

Why is loneliness
so crowded...