previous | next
 
 
 

FORGETFULNESS
What a concern
 
To merge with death from the ear-shape
truth –
Death is like a tree growing inside us slowly
The roots pulsing nearer to our ears
 
When the ground swallows us from the stomach
all this data will become sand
Sand to the camels and to the horses
Sand to the turtles and to the seas
as if the water was time
 
The riches will survive the fables
Watering
Time to change moods
truce –
Wet all the turtles will follow the sun
and cannot change it
 
Wet all the turtles will follow the sun
and cannot change it
Feel the stomach
turning a déjà vu.
 
Sure of a carapace
System of leaves to cover your heart
Mirror of a tree crown swimming as well
 
The beauty of a sparkle
and the ugliness of choices – one
 
Time could carry our weight
if only we could paint dice
to wait on the windowsill
Wait for a guest
Wait for a moment of your pride
or patience
And let it be
Dusty or kept
 
Choice of an arm
reaching as far as your hands can touch your face
 
Do you cry or rest