Nestled cold, this one cold night after night going calándome
May in this sad and dry nights,
in this Autumn White Pages
blows my mouth in a warm breeze that blankets my flashes absorbed
wet I can feel, words not yet born
conjuring up over my head I can almost touch the words with Indian drum cadence
And But ... "I can hear them now?
I wake up dripping from my eyelashes
Ink Spying
China awaits the role of snow
Waiting for the right time to ride all
Huge Black
As implacable blue lightning is spilling over
night
For a moment Huge
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