titilation
model of beauty
calls forth accidental winds
woosh! fallen oak tree



limestone
the matters of all
lay in the hands of no one
dealing profound cost



equator
empty glass bottle
wedged in the cold, sticky sands
does not hide-- but runs



fame
breakfast was served stale
plunged through the innocent ones
never forgotten



magnitude
forty of ten is
hundreds of four, stalled, repeats
all drifting currents



shroud
one soft sting encased
beneath the amber mantle
bane of both parties