It took me all night to fix this moon
See, I once thought night was a tricky thing

I don't know how to put it
It feels different in the day
Like coherence slips with the rhythm of this sound

A whispering demand of not to think
now the world is in mute

I gaze my body floating in the middle of the afternoon
The moon I made is showing an unknown side
And my only point of reference is burning my eyes

The day was not supposed to act like that
At times I am most unprepared for
Demanding moons I've never made before

So night comes, and I toss my moon around
When the day arrives again, I'll be waiting in the ground

Look at us,
We are stars
We are just chilling

leading might they be.
Cause I simply don’t experience things
in the limited time of what we call moments.

The same way I dislike fireworks,
nights not followed by days and days not followed by nights;
the same way I dislike non gravitational wonders  

I am not the one diverting
I am the one accepting the role of sequence
and all its consequences.

Still given it all,
I don’t understand,
how I ignored the non sequence,
how I let it wonder somewhere without the where,
just because I couldn’t not contradict myself
and accept
the entropy in your expression

Where I found myself helpless
and I realised I exist
in front of a limited collection of compounds
before its infinite aphorism of how’s and why’s


Where I crawl with my tounge tied
on the last stare you leave
   behind
and the wonder clinging around it
like my fingers at the end of your cloth
the one escorting your pace of departure


Rhythmically,
like the times you space out
and I lose the world for a second
the duration of a doubt
floating from
and coming right back at me
slapping my words
and my breath without ceasing,  
  resisting,
to envy the object that stole your gaze


Where I couldn’t count a couple of eyes
or understand the number of times
I resembled your blanc expression
while navigating at the curves of your face
getting cut at the edges of your thought
in a vacuum
floating. unaware.
mimicking your unintelligible ways


Where i found myself helpless
without hands to kiss you
or lips to hag you
   enough
to explain my sudden illiteracy


Looking at the ceiling we are both lying under
While the night is falling from the same window
Together with every cloth I had to wear
Transforming the sighs which never could
To screams and cries that never should
But from under the covers to whisper
          
                                     I realised I exist