Sometimes i find some people like polar bears ,
white angles from outside and black from inside under that kind good smile ,
like that snow fur .

I have scenarios beyond dreams which confides me of the strangest elements. the humid turmoil of life and colours of death - insensible yet sensed. The oxygen no longer helps my lungs to breath but the thought of my own funeral does.
strange how much  this clippers of collision can be demons, so evil yet so pure to this parallel vida.

There are poems about you , which do not live,
its a sad kind of disguise
but they grew ,
developed body parts ,
bloomed like buds ,
and found their way straight through my summer plumed heart
to write about how it felt when your hands touched me ,
and your arms felt more soothing than the star blue bed I miss home back.
your thoughts are crabbed , creating the sallowness of fear .
the bitter sweet time we spent projects into my little dumb mind ,
then makes my tears like vinegar , or bitter blinking yellow missings .
with forever my lips curving in an arc .
coming of you was not so easy but you made me alive now.

when counsellors did tantrums
I stood there
watching sun and moon getting divided
thought they were inseparable as moon loved sun more than the mist of holy sins ,
but then I got numb when I saw them going away into this whole lot of darkness on separate ways.
that day I learned that love is ivy poison it spares the none .
when it goes , soul burns.

There is a prayer in the wind
that you cannot see
if we close our eyes
would you read it to me ?