I know nothing about you,but in the breath of the wind there are stories to be read.Immense emptiness, like the sky without a horizon,who are you after all?I know very little,but in each silence I discover an echo.Leaf without...

  All that you know me is so nothing without a trace.What you know is so nothing and the river. You know about me is so nothing, all about me is ever a lost echo.So all is not now is a...

  So all that you know about me is so nothing, wind without a trace. So all that you know about me is so nothing, shadow the river. So all that you know about me is so nothing, ever lost echo. So all...

There are such long-forgotten tracks,hidden here within these cracks,between each and every line...a most nefarious sort of design. While the poetry seeks to beguile,such venom behind every smile—meant, then, to be kissedafter any warning is missed. Or so it always does...