That beloved settles, skeleton of late chrysanthemums their ribs, of os adorned.
I bury white casts that flake pale fingertips, now dry riverbeds silt grottoes adorned. 

A plump vertical cleaves a silence between two slants of rain. 
She longs her lover to white sheets, bejewelled bride, thirst amadou adorned. 

He sees beyond his guide’s path a horseshoe of fog.
Your grief once, then the world’s grief, disembowelled, rubied pathos adorned.

Clear blue midday skies: cut clean through to the intimate essence. 
This; there is no day without a line—it is so adorned. 

It is not just nor right that singers perish from singer’s mouths.
He holds me in his embrace, I, a singer’s poet, of his mirrored gaze-terrazos adorned.

They have put the beginning at the end, I say. (Such things are not to be said.)
Orpheé turns at this threshold, one last look, love’s loss so adorned. 

Skin tinted sepia surrenders gracelessly to the floor.
(As the flutter of furtive feet in a silent room)
Veronica’s veil has caught His damp face, there is only pain au-dessou, adorned.