“What if I’m never able to write / into your world what I hold within? / At a crossroads, robbed of my / words, awash with doubt, aglow…”

“His love in my veins, my name flaming through his, / passionate poison slow-going in its demise, lust running marathons down / his track-marked thighs, wrapping around…”

“Slithering quicksilver, / a moving sculpture with / a lyrical step, yes, / sir, I do think we have / already met, I am / sure of it now, in…”

“The god in your body makes a wound / yet you do not make a sound, / hollowed out by exhaustion, fever / plagues the city, withers its…”

“To bring you light I have / blown a torch in the dark, / collecting in my mouth whatever sparks / it tossed off onto my tongue, / touches…”