days revolve in circles and
transparent dilemmas: death and seduction
hours like sirens and full hearts
the conquerer is no winer with his reflexes drawn into eagerness
I saved some slopes into unknown
as they set the table for the unheard screaming
whose is the fierce desire?
what does the poor mind know about
the honest being?
what can your body do with his/hers/theirs?
dangers in the four corners
true love is the hardest thing
those days wouldn't let go of the centre
the full-emptiness of this desire:
give myself to me already devoured
hurt, shame, helplessnes

true love leaves you free
incomplete facing the heart
of darkness
unresolved