
it was written in his hand
that she would still be here tomorrow
maybe even after tomorrow
that she would go to the end of the road
(far from being innocuous)
it was written in his hand
that she would still be here tomorrow
maybe even after tomorrow
that she would go to the end of the road
(far from being innocuous)
For a long time I wished life to be as well organised as the directions found on this wall (but it does not work that way).
Life will surprise us
when we expect it the least
in the dark corner of a Monday
in the tight folds of a fist
in the grey of the rain
in the final of a dot,
somewhere near the water
*first published in 2018
Doing all of this
that is called life
a little distractedly
while lying in bed
with one’s arms stretching
to the trembling ceiling
*first posted in June 2018, revised in June 2019