с моя глас мълчи

гледа ме с очи

сякаш е човек, а не змия

непознато мига срещу мен

от огледалото ми отразен

нагло е

твърди, че ме познава

...

туит

не разбирам от ямб, дактил и амфибрахий
аз съм вагабонт, който пише, за да утоли жаждата си

And I am certain, I will let myself flow freely, no forceful direction to carry me to a target, until I crumble inevitably under the pain of my parents not loving me, of my dreams slipping away into a photo album of faded pictures. Oh woe, my children, for a barren heart cannot support a family. But I'm not scared of the future, it's not the nature of The Fool, read about it. Salvation will catch up to me, as a ray of light through the small window of solitary confinement, like a weed I will take the opportunity to grow again. My hope is desperate. It will not die. It will not allow me to die.