Multam Aquam

splashing    water,
no, not         water

a splash of blood 
turned my stomach.
             My blood in 
my   stomach.

I stand as a 
   witness to
horrible       things.
Things     no     man
can                    imagine.

I knew not
         what 
       I was in 
for:
I was deaf
I was blind
I was weak.
    I felt not;



A splash of blood,
        no, not blood,



splashing water
                 in my streams
interconnected
                 to my dreams.

Sol et Luna

Does anyone know
how feelings give
birth to feelings?

Or simply: how
horizons have
no endings?

More simply: how
madness, in the
blink of an eye,

turns to a rush
of tranquil;
tell me why.

Does the Moon
envy the Sun,
I wonder?

Or is it the
other way
around:

Does the Sun
covet the
lustrous

company of
a thousand
other stars

when She
is rather a
star herself?