the neon
noise of cars
swimming in the last
light
scribble love
notes to love last
even if your last love
is no more
than a neon night
holding hands
to hide
words to wear
the strange blossom
of an october glow
the walls
are pretty far
for a child
no more waiting
no more reason
a poet written
by the wind
a fire
for the martyred soul
trapped in a century
of sickness
the poison well
written
by the sun
breathless
by night