cdlxxxi. where it starts

the way one goes nowhere important. your voice is so vibrant, like a child’s, taking words for the playthings they are. from nowhere but the sky you see daily, the beginnings come circling like birds.

cdlxxix. memory

you don’t know how to make up for it.

cdlxxviii. fluidity

time is the water that flows from you, meaningless, washing away the memory of another day. you are alive miraculously, with less things than needed, the hands you dirtied in living your own.

cdlxix. the touchdown

you return here to your own words to seek the answers to yourself. and it is too late. the words fold their arms and smile in silence. they take no risks. they know what they know, but they will tell you nothing.

cdlxv. avoiding complications

don’t drink. don’t smoke. don’t sleep around. don’t take drugs if you can help it. do drive safely. stop when the light turns red. there are reasons for such rules.

cdlvi. missed photos of you

you are pooling grains and forgetting texture.

cdliii. person, places, time

i’d like to know the places where you are from, how you carry yourself amid those fast departures.

cdxlviii. what is this?

must be the song bending round the corner. must be the rush towards meaning slipping through hoops. must be the positions of aloneness, arms at the side forging relations with the only body known to you.

cdxlix. cf

i love your words more and more, the delight of similarities differently read, falling like cold but romantic nights. like quiet winds. you know their presence before you step outside.

cdxliv. how do you see?

do you see only the crisp edges where black meets white, or do you see beyond the color hidden from sight?