We breathe the spiked and silken lemongrass,among marbled men and maidens made of clay, am I a…
A note to my tangled self:Some would say you always knew your beauty was hidden somewhere…
Time locks my tearsand feathers into a globethat fits into the palm of my hand —…
In every dirge,there is an everlasting sunbringing forth its symphony — I can hear…
What is left of meOnce my mind is set on The things that are not mineMay all the money and success be yoursI shall seek…