Sunday 5 April 2015

What I Wrote Was Always Incomplete

We’ll spend our lives in ellipses,
And you won’t even get to know
My snores
                       In breaks
Try to reach somewhere
Break
And resume again,
You said,
Like there’s a voice inside
Wanting to

Like your sleep
It has no cycle, 
                       Only        
               a
                                            maze
and you and I focus to find
our routes
underthetress
ontherocks
insidedreams

with your sinuses and medication,
my sad nothings and
commas in clouds
                                      or were they birds?
We reach the end,
The start
Dices in our hands
                       
                               We created this maze ourselves
                         On ellipses

Now the Train is here
Our platforms different
But
Our dreams
Won’t be

The Sunset on August 5th, 2020

The sun’s decline is both a spectacle and a discrete proposal for us to decide over, to veto the power of the strongest- since ignorance of ...