we
Aries moon children
moonbathe partly civilian
seeking home off urbanized empires
in handmade utopian isles
sunlit all night ironically to others
digging quarries by borders
to find our reasons
why we are ourselves.

because we
Children of winter
We resist coldness wilting happily
not enough time in a year to grow on gardening soil unluckily
Purposefully living
Purposeless at doom
meaningless tale told by her Moon
we dance in flames
of cool.

White yacht parties techno music Bacardi
pillow cries?

Never in my life Never in our lives
Never moonlit all the time never sad exceptionally burnt out white hot we stay
Crumbled empire
Crumpled pages on fire
beautiful at last wild freely flying
to admirers

Being a poet residing on past dry and needy now I’m alive
Now the night is bright
they and their friends would be a group of nimbi high
Looking for their maker
always busy always out of earshot living multiple lives cause they
befriended town bartenders

Valentine
faking opulence still ahead of our time
elusive for our children’s lifetime by far
Vault which is a quarry
Open sky
still we’ve never learned to fly
we just stay collected and firm
Forever seeking gold of the prism
In the glistening eyes of people
We are who we are in the end
deeply designed precisely made
Aries
Marina bay
Taking inspiration from sweetish breeze air
crying happily on parchment all day
We could fly high as sky
but we’ll just stay right there.