Shoes under a rest
world is wide wide going
across the neck it flows
in hurry
Before too late you better say
something that is not turning to shape
Around the ears
about to hear
irregular
disgusting poem
Have done i saying
never late is phrase
there is no phrase
than i prefer of not to say in order
I ask of golden flower to come over
be growing bold and tough
my favorite least number counts
many times
before i kneel
and taste
the bittersweet of coming grace
the shoes tired
they are well informed
could even break into another form
and to remain in quiescent
for more they have been told