In every truth
You decry
Of choices
Taking too long to write
Mi almo corazon
Psyche?
Why the laxed moons
Draiping caskets of Eden?
In lent ash
A distant land
Below embers tumble
Oh erie
I resisted
And little is the quelched canvas
Bereaved and tossing in stay
Russian tongues split and boiled
Canary wings of warming crescent
Hazel tree bark
Greying sounds of silver
End blue wonder
Collapse in Forrested hill
Wilded flower
Cambering flights
Is nestled boat not yet the shores under