Not necessary
from some solid attributes...

When I returned from US there was no fire left in...
no humble spirit...

Butterflies ensnared
in the crayon box beneath...

When we are in love
we are two fluttering wings...

Look
how inflated I am...

Everything is for acting
I am an entertainer...

Could you for a while cuddle this little bug,
this hug- less kitten in the cold...

How and how much do you sell your conscience?
How, how much and to whom...

Upon my heart—
the diary...

Everything is for acting
I am an entertainer...

I am like a pauper.
My begging limbs elongate against...

I am the humble man of your virtue.
I am the fire from within...