Assassin bug


On my table an assassin bug
goes around, takes a look:
surely a prey it is looking for, now.
It’s so nice yet a thin little monster
that kills

Warmer winters let it come here to me
from the south, as the sin
when it enters my mind like a shiver
coming from dark and bad earths of mist

when I kill every good in myself


November, 22nd 2016


Shivers grow on the skin

Thank you carlo/klimt fot this pic! (original there:


Shivers grow on the skin like spring waves
looking at your green eyes, at the soul
that you hide deeper, behind the face.
Shivers grow both in my conscience now

Shivers move the lake’s water: the wind
is the lover, deep blue is the sky.
I’m a grey stuff, a stone in the fog
of this winter, a sequence of absence

January, 28th 2014