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| Love and fantasy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | morning time | cascading images | In moments of seclusion | captivated by an image | I look at you and see | times spent with you | the glitter of | Emotions in winter | beauty stands before me | sitting here | softness purring in my ears | the floating sounds | fabrications | renewed in an instant | you bring me life | once, I saw the beauty | an emotion passes | soft warm hands | the magic in her image | a man will not suffer |
| Observation and commentary . . . | . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | faces seen | Delusive visionaries | every thought | they speak in references | jagged poking mono-syllabics | can merely a | seeing what is nice | penetrate the intrusion | cold street, black street | Aluminum People | not another piece of | a time of gentlemen | the refugees from a world | settled in comfort now we've | scattered remnants of a life | hate landing hard |
| Reflection . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | worlds await | The places I've been | retreating | silent I am | a solemn, expressive note | the refuse of thoughts | renewing my acquaintance | lying there | the stark awareness |
| Miscellany . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . | saa cees a nu | Its in those the night close in | It was as though they had dreamed of red satin |
... and her face never shined again |