With A calligraphy bird By the sea I saw myself Through a Cellar window - I saw Identity hiding Frightened. A few minutes Can occur: weeks Or even up to years Here In your Fusion [fission] Forest; Pebbles sprouting Dreams and Drugs Illustrate The idea of lying To the Snakes in the
Cellar. By peaceful death Of self, my Sands Feel cold All alone - Dressed in wings Exaggerating the freedom We place behind Intense passions Pursued through the Falling of the Stars through the Trees where I am afraid.
I am lost.
If I were to move Down The rickety stairs Where I am Hungary and impatient Of the world, would I find old light? Would I find oceans Dipping back to the point Where sleep Interferes With the rising Of the sun? Or would I find That you look Like me? Laden with night As a spectre Who's words like The wind Are of a dream; As are the sounds Of your breath (When others Are not Looking).