Waste not a single word
Though syllables scream for release,
Consonants flap to fly and
Vowels seep through cracks

Waste not to want
For nothing to
Finish your perfect
Death poem

I shall go down to the dump today
to pick up a random thought
and translate it into
a first language

Volcanoes
Oceans
Moons and women only they

Know how to flow

Today some cloud
Put on a show,
Streaking across
Clear blue sky.

Pretty
Empty
Condensation
Evaporating far away

I need friend
To spend these empty days of mine
Where I talk to myself
And try to make myself happy

To have a coffee
To drink a little bit
To take a walk
To give a hug

The universe wants me cold
As I live this solitary life.

She is the life,
He is the death.
She was mistreated,
He held no breath.
She hoped to end,
He fought to stay.
She kissed him once—
He rose,
She slipped away.