Equipped at times, vastly on the premises, I ask
What better words could take the part, the traces
Of all the fathoms that redeem the dusk, a bruise
Dipped fragile in the clamor of all faces
Strut over alley, you, pick the guess
Timbers treat and cloak with faith, slant
The agony‘s a matter of survey
Beyond what was or knees that blend
Turbulent huddling, completely dull at taste
When was I supposed to say, not calm but handsome
To measure silence is an art
Excuse me. Once and more and more again
Extremities are hard to reach, restore of mind
The provinces and depths will single call
Bogdan Puslenghea
Pic Nick Victor