In twilight of pain
I blink for a dot
to punctuate the intelligence.

My incoherence brings the unseen.
I stay at a vowel
to see the truth.

Immenseness versus depth,
in shoals of turbulent life.
Where do I hide my vessel?

A lure of the exotic death
does not bring the peach color
to reveal the light on earth.

An inverted blankness prints
the words of green bruises,
where the falls meet.