One blinding bliss, one holy shroud, two binding prudent vows, we understand our other as knowledge does endow with kindness unrelenting, with mercy uncowed by…
Why do we poke at the evening with light? Still why does it seem that the dusk is contrite? Myriad eyes have seen, many teeth…
Bound in a lampshade, so some say of the djinn or the Watts of James’ legacy. Yet some believe he was real (the latter day)…
Lipped like cherubs, rung like roses: these are the lenses your case encloses. Neither half-full nor dourly sweet, nearly not spilt as a vessel…
What did we lose in those primordial moments tossed in sarmassation, living in a glass house? I touched your inner comments then, judging me to…
When I die, I want your hands on my eyes: I want the light and wheat of your beloved hands to pass their freshness over…