In the darkness,
all the inks in the world...

I brimmed mine with wine
but only your empty glass...

It is so corroding to ask an alchemist
to give up alcohol...

I am only your opposite
not your enemy...

They don't mean their words
words for them are contests of...

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...