Digital drawing · poetry


Come here my beautiful second,

count me your sands.

Come here you momentous minute,

let’s ask the stars.

Come to me honorable hour,

I will lay in your rice.

At mid day as the 12 second of the 6 minute of each 3 hours passed.

I will count and measure all of my temporal morbidity of my life,

not of anything,

but everything that lighted each seed of the word I uttered of all of the

memories I gathered.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.