I thank the spiders’ webs and the circus dancers who stain our eyes with …
Frank Lima
I put my hand …
My father was …
in the beginning …
I need more time, a simple day in Paris hotels and window shopping. …
I …
Crows see us as another invention. …
We went to all those places where they restore sadness and joy …
In the corner lot …
These empty words are so remote. They are stories someone wants …
Each hair is a poem I gave my son …
During the day I play at drowning …
My angel, don't think the great stillness is wooing us: …
I wanted to be sure this was our island …
the grapes …