knots.

made of
knowing not
why not.

all i did not,
all i do not.

out of not
unknotting
what was not
knotted,
no, it was not.

so linear.
just
let it be
and move on.

or not.

in my homeland,
the fishermen widows
salt their hearts
and hang them to dry.

in my homeland,
they say there is a cliff
where the moon gives
birth to the ******

and where the wind
whispers and howls
until the sails
get lost in the far.

Dear shattered moon
Let your pieces drag the sun
Shooting stars forming rainbows
Untill the dawn has begun

Jigsaws in formations
Millions of dreams to explore
Basking in the rays of you
Reflecting the waves on shore

Towers leaning, obtaining
The warm décor
Flowers on the open air
The smiles painted under a dusty floor

Little whispers of art
Black holes in empty rooms
Constellations in the moon
Loves evaporating fumes

To be not one with ones self
Half and half inside your coffee cup
A difference between
Six feet under and a million miles up

Never disturbing
The content of the beast
The savaging lust
The constant of the feast

Patient of a rendering love
Picture frames holding foreign lands
I could only roam in silent days
When darkness and light came hand in hand

Drown not just the stars
But the strings attached
Puppets of a sinner
The bridge collapsed

Mighty hands are the only hands
That could build the moon again