Φίλησες τα τραύματα μου
Φύσηξες αέρα στα νέα μου πνευμονία
Και για αυτό και μόνο δεν χρειάστηκαν ξένη ιατρική βοήθεια
Παρά μόνο μια δική σου ιαματική μάτια
Μετά από αυτή την εμπειρία
Αποφάσισα να μετακομίσω
Μου πήρες λουλούδια για το νέο μου σπίτι
Που βρισκόταν στη οδό "απόλαυση"
Θες να μάθεις πού είναι;
Στην διασταύρωση της οδού 'εσύ' με την 'εγώ'
Προσπέρνα το πάρκο της ματαιοδοξίας και στρίψε αριστερά εκεί θα δεις το περίπτερο της αμφιβολίας
Αν θελήσεις τσιγάρα μην σταματήσεις
είναι πήχτρα και ό,τι πουλάει έχει τίμημα ακριβό
Προχωρά λίγο παρακάτω στο ψιλικατζίδικο της αμοιβαίας εμπιστοσύνης μπορεί να μην δεις κόσμο εκεί αλλά, η ποιότητα των αντικειμένων προς πώληση είναι ανεκτίμητη.

I was the living god
I was in a bliss so pure
and I thought this is how the world felt
I was Cronus until my son
Zeus was born
and down came my
DEMISE

yestereve we succame
A lengthy ballad of longing
formerly one of obstinance
flared in a cacophony of passion

Whilst usually twirling in a seemly epitome fashion,
yestereve a caprice thought laid heavy on hearts
as there was no doubt of desire
nor were there objections to her
for even when my affections consumed you
lady desire was just an inexorable

yestereve she picked petals from a Sinensis blossom
there went the pain
any semblance of grudge
along with sanity
reason
and lastly, walls as carefully constructed as that of Pyramus and Thisbe's
such vulnerability unmatched
for your sweet scent lulled me from the arms of reason
for reason, although safe,
is the most intricate and fragile part of the ballad
and the first to fall victim to the cascade

What a fool I must be to have gladly forgotten the kinks of your hands
or the freckles on the back of your neck that form a perfect triad.
The way your upper lip curls when you grin
made my glissade blissful and passionate
Your flustered twirl
the very epitome of aubade

Ignorant of the harsh retombe of reality
Your flustered face En L'air
Every touch a pleasant surprise that formed a grand symphony

A moment of unfiltered emotion
A heavenly ballad
so cruelly of yestereve.

A fox sits in the forest at the foot of my house.
Each morning
she intertwines with the sunrise, materialising through graceful leaps
It leaves me breathless;
all I can do is bathe in awe.

One morning I extend my hand
and she engulfs me, gracefully
I become whole again. We dash through trees
and fields and meadows

She dances, and leads me gently to the tips of the earth
Her breath resounds against hillsides, and as I fall
I catch almost a glimmer of
light-dipped roses, and golden daffodils.