love's bright burst ignites,  

apologies in the night,  

lust fades with dawn's light.

~
She smiles only in pictures
Her hair is growing long

With eyes closed
Au coucher du soleil
Her voice is dulcet
Her laugh is nexus

"Take me with you," she says.
"We'll make kites, we'll steal land."

The gentle arrival of rain
In the blue hour of
The portrait gallery
Makes her qualified to dream
About a serenade of water
And the blueberry boat
~

2/6/35 4:57pm

“and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.”
<•>

Let X
(mark the spot)
Let X
be what it seems
Let X
be the finale,
the answer it seems
to be,
not the necessary one
you wish it to be,
but what be

seemly

the sense of The End,
the final descent,
the last landing
(or perhaps the first takeoff)
let it be,
be a finale,

Let X
be the finale,

Let Be
the answer it seems to be

let be

Imperceptible losses
and rebirths
in one human life.
Dreams, people saying goodbye
in an elliptical circle of losses
with blooming awareness.

This is a permanent, seductive opposition
of invisible, changing thoughts.
A tug-of-war between
the beautiful glimpses
of pure emptiness,
and refreshing fever, the will to live.

Who am I?
I’m a multitude of small deaths and rebirths
longing for something hazy…
So, I say every night to myself, without regret
“Sweet dreams” looking in the mirror.

I let the bird out of the cage:
the woman who I am now,
to welcome, tomorrow early morning,
the same but no longer the same.
And so, I came into being
a New Incarnation…