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