A domino pile are my notebooks
and the bottom thoughts
hold my wand.

Unleashed with certain and schemes,
the past asking what ends meets means.
Walking somewhere
going through,

But be careful to slay the monster,
what a story can become.
Once the swift master,
now a slave to my dog.

The Archer and Orion,
Apollo and Venus shining.
Battle for my sake.

It is, there minds and souls
weaved from foxed cloves
the slip in space and rhyme.

Just in my skin as a stitch
and storm to sailor's plight,
"Oh my captain, Ishmael
Sank into the night!"

Leaning Tower now breaks
inside,
opened window to the sunrise.


Tap. Tap.

Went the sound of ink,
Ocean breathes me
I breathe the sea
princess and
pea