what hides under nails
in the dark
when the light is turned off

misanthropic nectar
of stories unknown
breathlessly told

tremble of hands
glimmering slighter and slighter
on a tormenting rhythm

purple scales
of ethereal fishes
fed on sawdust of phantoms

sweet-scented ash
of obsessions
burnt in psychedelic sleep

shadows of birds
periodically migrating
to the distant shore of oblivion