| Date |
Title |
Content |
|
Walking around the rim |
There is a volcano in the room with the... |
|
The temptation circles |
"I died," she declared in a formal solemn... |
|
The anger |
There will be an explosion of lights
With... |
|
Two |
My big secret has always been this:
I have... |
|
The byzantine song |
The Augustean nights will come, bright and... |
|
Seeking |
Nora was looking at the mirror,
Her two... |
|
The choice |
I have the ugliest skin of all animals
Look... |
|
What happens at nights |
A cold morning I saw the tree of life ... |
|
Prose Poem with Bikes |
The old women were coming down, in flocks,... |
|
Being dead, smells like brown color |
She had died looking at the ceiling. Her... |
|
Some doors |
My white skin, my perfect white skin would... |
|
Me, the winter |
You are a poem in my tongue, I will lick... |
|
I hid everything and I locked my doors |
[..] ''Long hair and two eyes in the ocean... |
|
Your blue color |
I am talking
I am mumbling all night... |
|
The haunted Irish |
Bow your head
And let me tie your... |
|
The colors |
Your great eyes are floating into Succubus... |
|
The lullaby of a scared soul |
We felt lonely.
We felt thirsty like an... |
|
Haunted by the piano marteaux |
Male skin that smells like green tea
makes... |
|
-isn't every gaze difficult?- |
There are no open doors, no bastions
I... |
|
It’s all about ugliness |
Grey and khaki colors appeared one... |
|
The gills |
It took me time to understand a lot of... |
