About Us



The rumble of a photonic flight,

Brushed with mascara tears,

Tumbling into sleepless blight,

Till the masquerade of shear flares,

Becomes a stanza of the undue,

And a song of revue,

Plucks a chameleonic hue.

I need her.


A quiet beast,

Immersed to the breast,

Immobile in phantasm,

Reaching, grasping, cascading,

In tempestuous chasm,

Tranced by the stupor of animation,

Amidst the chaos of relinquish.

I must have her.



That’s it,

Smile darkly,

Recant the rapture,



The eyes have it all,

Let it be Reve.