The single purple moon
was cruising non-chalantly.
You come out at the window─
and hit the headlines.
Put on hold, my existential
being. I am becoming
non-existent. The abundant
mental ills, become a cause.
Do you agree on this verdict?
It comes back to haunt you,
Your past. The black hope dis-
membering you. You come─
out finally to declare the murder.
I am waiting in the wings.
That Is It
The thing I look for in your scribbling, the mind inside the meaning of each letter, each space, each intent - and the reader is the rewardee/ess :D - Stella