Poetry

Unmaking the bond 
between cause and effect. 
You start throwing stones 
as a mark of intimacy. 
 
Ipomea: 
You wanted to learn the 
art of blooming silently 
at dawn. 
 
Huddled like solar flares 
before colliding with 
a drift, you wanted me to live 
for eternity. 
 
Watching sperm dance 
without tails 
in bell jar. 
 
It was barely visible. 
Cultivating a digital entry. 
This was becoming 
a terror-haven.