Geral

"every old man I see
reminds me of my father
that time
when
...

Under a tree
on my back;
I read a paper-back

Branches covered in leaves...

With a conceited ego
the plumage friend
poised its head towards
the left...

I had been around
Wandering through so many places
Looking for my right place in...

At six mornin time;

I swing on the hammock,

breeze sprinkles my face.

I dropped my mother's ashes
down into the water

I wanted them to sink down...

It isn’t fair to me,
how in torpidity
creatures arise

back to...

Obsessed with my tongue,
words are bittersweet like lemonade
An unexplainable...