molding the steps of unspoken words
in the poems of daylight:ever growing sense
of brotherhood with the hour,
in which he could squeeze the sour for eternity.
he was alone in the blue Friday,
a mysterious woman of delight
on his leaps,melting on the walls undistinguishable
and high.
in a sudden silence,the desire of living,
those who trespassed the bounds
of his slow shadowing ego,an invasion
of propriety.
a never ending motion of flair,
inward,
an intricate
pattern of birds flying the mind
of a poet