One thin line

Under the vast heavens
one begins one ends
under the only stars, meteors and space rubbish
one story after another
scratched into the tablet of time
one tiny line after another
begins and ends





Its weight in gold
On my mind

I recite
The sound of murmur
Flowing in through the gap between the window and flower pot
The vibration of melody in the dusk
Somebody is playing violins
I feel on my skin
The moist touch of falling fog

We dissolve in the acid bath of memories
We change
In the paradox of mortality and remembering

Past the shadows
Where we glitter
Stripped from the bother of time

Black ravens

Water moves slowly

Sliced between decay and molecules of oxygen

The flow so cold

It tastes of

Heavy frozen earth


Black wings


Majestically decorating

This moment


They leave marks

All over

The white cloth


My heart reaches

But finds nothing there