
You
I found your voice—
it’s lying bare, naked, beneath my tongue.
And my left eye is burning,
while my right one sees clear.
Time seems surreal, not real,
and you fold the sheets,
one end and the other end,
the farthest distance,
near on one line.














Paintings & Poems

You
I found your voice—
it’s lying bare, naked, beneath my tongue.
And my left eye is burning,
while my right one sees clear.
Time seems surreal, not real,
and you fold the sheets,
one end and the other end,
the farthest distance,
near on one line.













