
Time, hot, cold, past, gone, stolen, switched off, in the palm of my hand, in the ray of light that has just landed on my morning.
Reposted from August 2017, reviewed in July 2019

Time, hot, cold, past, gone, stolen, switched off, in the palm of my hand, in the ray of light that has just landed on my morning.
Reposted from August 2017, reviewed in July 2019

let my will melt in the coldness of August, shake off the dust of regret when you open the window, looking at you through the eyes of the rain, a little sad, like tears on the window.

We would promise
the impossible and
winter would melt
in the colours of
ether
the softness of
the air
on the edge of the flesh
*posted for the first time in July 2018

we would be extremely cautious, in the face of fait accompli, let’s be honest and say nothing grave or true. Clenching our teeth would be totally fine.

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