My bad, but I do have all of my pieces in place, thought I have no space for

pieces of nothingness.

My bad I wronged uttering damnation

Desolation in response I got,

Hot spear piercing guts, venomous point and tongue

My bad I lay to rest, upon my treasure, don’t test me

Or else I’ll breath fire, scooping air and letting go plasma

Feel no desire to make a move

And so, I’ll patiently wait.



Underneath thy flesh

Names carved on bones

Recall them, call them louder

Inside your veins

The past days moth

Times scar tissue tastes

Erasing memories of youth

Perfect black ink stains

Caffeinated reasons

Calculated treasons

Rough time for the names to exist

Calcinated mess never to persist

Drop minerals on the side road

Those names time will erode


What are you doing to yourself?

A few months passed since

The last monument fell,

Why are you rising a new one once again?

Is that a new book on the shelf?

A picture of desire pleases you,

A lame sleepy passenger of life.

You crossed the fine line

Between reality and fiction,

Ignoring your own condition

Of a forgetful dreamer.


Your bodily absence

Created a sentimental paranoia,

A pure imaginary feeling,

Somewhat annoying.

It brought into being a flow,

Growing strongly in my womb.

On my skin the time’s collapsing.

I feel you in the marrow of my bones,

I seek you in my bloodstream.

What seemed imaginary once,

Became an unimaginable reality,

Unstoppable it runs and bounces

Through eternity.

… Your voice is music,

so touching,

I get out of BREATH.


Один раз в день

Я отпускаю свою тень.

Я отдыхаю от себя.

И тень моя бежит к тебе,

А в полуночь опять ко мне.

И некогда я не одна,

Я вижу тени у окна,

Знаю что одна из них

Это тень твоя.