Day after day i loose words
like menstrual streams.
I am forced by nature
to host the pain in forfiet
of my own labors at dusk
lining up across the horizon
which are quickly meant to pass
like flash of a sudden thunder,
like water from a lurching glass,
like quick scribbles on sand!
but love, how impatient you are!
I could hardly hold slipping
and spilling truth with my eyes!
