They made this world
out of corporeal shapes...

Each time you turn from what is true,
not with a scream...

Why is loneliness
so crowded...

I remember my future
if I see my past in a different degree...

My brothers,
my sisters...

Beneath a flower
is a vase, is a flower garden...

Hand and guitar,
concave and convex...

Heart is now,
tick tack pulsating...

How my soul could learn
right from wrong if it isn't me...

Parallels,
creator and createe...

Bigger than ever,
yet smaller than a moment...

Unable to see the derision
of themselves...