Romantic Poems

This is the paradise
that could patch
our feelings.
Earth owns the sky
as a window to the
huge galaxy which
glory in mystery.

My window is
the scrap of
papers--written
with list of questions
about the world that
would never
be understood.

The earth threats
our guts with
deep pools.
I only have few
gramophone-records,
my private sea that
is always you
and you again in it.