The Engine of Kumquat Cadet, 2023
Wickenings Observes, 2022
Velvet toe, I will be going back, 2022
A Book of Permutation = Tale of A Dying House, 2021
ruler of ruins returned to a skiving wind, 2021
Upper Demise, 2021
흙(ox-xy-maroon harwk), 2021
hex-RHM QING’s FOR-GARDEN gram, 2021
h(A)unt yet, argumented nostalgia, 2021
SLEEPAWAKE CHAOSKAMPF: A cyborg ode, 2020
CARELESSNESS CAUSES FIRE, 2020
Kybalion, 2019
Wickenings Observes, 2022
Velvet toe, I will be going back, 2022
A Book of Permutation = Tale of A Dying House, 2021
ruler of ruins returned to a skiving wind, 2021
Upper Demise, 2021
흙(ox-xy-maroon harwk), 2021
hex-RHM QING’s FOR-GARDEN gram, 2021
h(A)unt yet, argumented nostalgia, 2021
SLEEPAWAKE CHAOSKAMPF: A cyborg ode, 2020
CARELESSNESS CAUSES FIRE, 2020
Kybalion, 2019
to whom will never be here, where we make new phrases for love.
A sample of chaos,
Tended to in a coal-gate,
With invincible passions of old hinges
shouldn’t be gone,
Just always near to ‘that’ line of worms
Wasn’t it a boiling dash?
Bubbling down as narrow air laughs,
Busting up into the sky
Waiting in the meeting zone where the name was never called,
Fare-fully smiling in a no-show,
for the counted reasons cannot be written here
A faithful cause of passing
Forecast-shadower for every day
Subtle ampersand ate silent blast
&, In aviation of loss,
the auto-correct answers:
‘Wind, I can visit without you knowing’
wished,
even if only an envelope,
dared,
to have it crushed
Two moons would have made eight stars,
an infinite paradise for that absence
No sadness in the turbulence,
when cotton magnets a’rattling,
contingence blind to motor puddles,
I will meet you there
A sample of chaos,
Tended to in a coal-gate,
With invincible passions of old hinges
shouldn’t be gone,
Just always near to ‘that’ line of worms
Wasn’t it a boiling dash?
Bubbling down as narrow air laughs,
Busting up into the sky
Waiting in the meeting zone where the name was never called,
Fare-fully smiling in a no-show,
for the counted reasons cannot be written here
A faithful cause of passing
Forecast-shadower for every day
Subtle ampersand ate silent blast
&, In aviation of loss,
the auto-correct answers:
‘Wind, I can visit without you knowing’
wished,
even if only an envelope,
dared,
to have it crushed
Two moons would have made eight stars,
an infinite paradise for that absence
No sadness in the turbulence,
when cotton magnets a’rattling,
contingence blind to motor puddles,
I will meet you there