They do not give us ruler to draw the perfect...
We have to draw with our naked hands...

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

London
caressing the bruised pelt of a perpetual wisdom...

Time is the missing
perfection ticking to sew...

The observer and the observee are the same
but we cannot observe that at once...

There are no impediments
in the nature of true minds...

All the fire in the world
is nothing...

Tears have the constituents of their own:
Salted from bottom of the seas...

If you talk about magic and unknown
directly...

Time is just a space
between beginning and end...

I do not know how long I am going to live
I do not know how long we shall be together...

Such a strange affair,
between here and there...