Heat and dust
storm clouds
forming
about to bust

The metro bus
chugs up the hill
to the engines
determined will

The buildings
reek of history
Made by people
we no longer see

When the sun
goes down
night has become
day for everyone

Clouds now depart
the moon smiles
gives a wink
across the miles

Never reaching
the end
my love
I forever send

I am not born as yet,
five minutes before my birth.  
I can still go back
into my unbirth.
Now it’s ten minutes before,  
now, it’s one hour before birth.  
I go back,
I run
into my minus life.

I walk through my unbirth as in a tunnel  
with bizarre perspectives.
Ten years before,
a hundred and fifty years before,
I walk, my steps thump,
a fantastic journey through epochs  
in which there was no me.

How long is my minus life,
nonexistence so much resembles immortality.

Here is Romanticism, where I could have been a spinster,  
Here is the Renaissance, where I would have been
an ugly and unloved wife of an evil husband,
The Middle Ages, where I would have carried water in a tavern.

I walk still further,  
what an echo,  
my steps thump
through my minus life,  
through the reverse of life.  
I reach Adam and Eve,
nothing is seen anymore, it’s dark.
Now my nonexistence dies already
with the trite death of mathematical fiction.
As trite as the death of my existence would have been  
had I been really born.

You

Whoever you are
Sitting in the dark shadow
Of the black widow
That hovers atop your

Second sight

I'll find you in the
Ego-less corners
Of the 3rd dimension
Department of duality

Limelight

How many masks do I have in my collection
until someone realises something is off?

How long does the party go on until
everyone goes home, strips off
and sees that not everything is
as lovely, as majestic as how
the lights, decorations and music
made it out to be?

How many more superhero costumes
are made until they save me, from me?

-m.b