Belches melt

Belches melt.

Sea.

Seven songs,

full nights,

those nights.

Lilac.

This,

the tiny,

the

Belches air--sky.

Memories--the weaver's.

The mouse eve.

The cleaves dance.

Nobody

Nobody's going.

Couple. Edge. Saying goodbye.

Wind one perfuming.

Spruce tree, autumn piled

leaves. Nobody's going to

mountain reflected.

Nobody's away.

The ruins house burnt mosquitoes.

Burnt there is rising.

Smells in you pleasure

Biggest. Prettiest.

The grave smells in you pleasure,

the peach white twilight.

If "biggest prettiest" seems familiar, it should.

March

Everything spring, and

in dance, soft march a to thought.

Buddha praying day.

Wrinkles not is her,

gathers twilight, march slowly,

shift flower's, his with-