bloodbath

by 📍
it's cold in one's soul
(in its northern side),
it's a tough blizzard
⋯
a predictable hunch
clouded its eyes' sky,
and frost, deafened it
⋯
if it tries to say some,
its words… get frozen
⋯
whispered a snowdrop,
on bloodbath of March

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i wish

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as sweet as a sin...

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good for me

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every chance I get

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porcelain

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beyond my window is you talking with I don't know who but looks as if you're talking with me in an irrational dialect radiating so, in your eyes, the entrance towards my soul beyond of you is the moon, — the window toward dreams, where some dogs bark to guard fancies' sheepfold by some stars that lurk if you talk with I don't know who but looks as if you're talking with me beyond these hazy thoughts is a porcelain tome which tries your imagination to ask yourself if you are the one who's beyond my window, barking like a dog, guarding fancies' sheepfold, lurking the stars in my eyes
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i'll come running

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here I am

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j'ai vu...

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