In twilight of pain
I blink for a dot
to punctuate the intelligence.
My incoherence brings the unseen.
I stay at a vowel to see the truth.
Immenseness versus depth,
in shoals of turbulent life.
Where do I hide my vessel?
A lure of the exotic death
does not bring the peach color
to reveal the light on earth.
An inverted blankness
prints the words
of green bruises,
where the falls meet.
