...
Write it yourself, I say. Write it yourself like you write it into being with every single facet and fibre of it.
Write it like you know you are writing it.
A shape, form, emerges in front of your eyes,
your fingers are not still now, cannot be still
for they are at the same time describing and creating what you see with your own eyes.
They move, in constant motion because you are in constant motion, and you want it to be clear.
You are not running from it, but it is not easy.
It feels - it pulls at you rather strongly rather like this is the thing that is not very patient anymore not feeling like it makes sense to wait everything out - the thing that sent flashes of bliss into your fingers
in the first place, the thing that makes your very own chest sting and pound hard in turns, like a ship in the most childish of storms.
You do not dare to breath out fully, and when you do it sinks down right into your stomach and there feels
so much more profound and physical.
It stretches out into your hands and feet, your fingertips.
You do not look at your words because you are the one who’s already seen them before they came into being. You are not quite
daring to free the full power, the
full
spell of the word that lay under this thick layer, but you feel it fully, feel that already the word is out, uncovered, hovering - getting to know you better, getting to know your condition,
the multiple points of connection already apt and willing,
and the ones that still push - push away.
There is time.
There is time for sure. But the thing is as sentient as you are.

One of the
Truest things
I ever said was

that I love human beings
and back then I
did not think
while saying
that
at all -

In a small part of my
mind
I might have already
understood it
back then.

El viento te toca
Tu corazón se inflama
con un exhala de miedo
y alegria,
quando las calles, de nuevo,
se llenan de gente
jugando

If you're so quick
you'll have to stand and wait
until the snow around you
melts
and other flowers
show their little heads
to keep you
company

Til then
imagine
and await this
happy moment

The old Villa creaks under your careful steps. You know each nook and cranny, each dark, friendly and not so friendly corner. The wood and marble staircase spirals up like a reminiscent Chinese dragon, half asleep but moving. The chandelier - once crystal-clear and almost arrogant in its sparkling shine - now hangs from the high ceiling, unsure and slightly insecure about its own value. The doorknob under your warm hand feels irritatingly cold but familiar. You walk into what you know will be the hardest room for you. The room that you have avoided all this time but that, now, moves itself into your presence and you know, because you feel it, you cannot avoid it any longer. You don’t have to, either.
You turn the ****, and with a soft push the door gives in. One step, and you are in the room. You smell it, dusty childhood smell;
you know this, oh you know this, immediately. Yellow paper before you, crumpled school books, old toys, all of it - you remember
all of this.
You stand still for a moment. Half inside the room, half ready to leap backwards and shut the door again. You take a breath,
gathering your courage, your stability.
Then you experience a surging feeling, a wave-like movement that both comes towards you and seems to be oozing out of you, seeps from right out of your body, your chest. For a moment you have to close your eyes; it is too much.
Then,
in a powerful second inhale, you drink it all up, all of it, surrender
to all of this
understand
suddenly
with a magnificent pain and hot compassion, a lighting strike, that
all of it
until here
was necessary
made sense
makes sense
That you are all of this and more
and more
So much more.
Your lungs hold this breath, hold it for a timeless moment
before you, with utmost decisiveness and finality, open your eyes again
in slow-motion
facing
one last time
all of it

Saluting every single cherished item

Before you let
this
breath


out


and let everything

explode before your eyes

every structure


You lower your eyes


take a mental bow and step

back


And another step

You see



everything being lifted, moved around


unbound


explode in the air, into a million particles that are free to dance now


The things

the staircase the door the


room



the house



open


~


Somewhere at the shore, in white sand, a figure wakes up, stretching and shifting, squinting at the sparkling rays of sunlight reflected from the soft ocean waves. A naked, peaceful figure. The beach is as good as any place, and from here it begins.

A vague memory is welling up to the surface - vague, and yet engraved with care and absolute clarity;
there were certain things waiting here for a while.

A few meters away in the shade of the pine trees, there -

The figure gets up, a smile growing to full radiance. Naked feet starting to walk towards those trees, towards

Towards

Calmness
Irritates
It seems
Cause everytime
I meet new people
They ask
Why do you speak in such a
Low voice
And I wonder
If I would shout and boast
Would they ask
Too?

Sprinkle
sparkling stuff

explosions in the        
air but          
good ones

no brick rests upon      
dusty brick

no rules restrict us      
any more

burst      
    
my love          
in sunlight

  stretch  

your arms and    
lungs

I love you.

A playful kid shakes
An outstreched
Shaking hand of
A hesitant being
Smiling confidently
Take it easy
Saying
The gap will
Melt away like
Ice in summer

See, my Love
sometimes it really
is not you
who fears the things
inside
Sometimes it's
other people
who do not like to be
reminded
of their own
homemade troubles
and of how much
they press the lid
onto the jar

Of how-
with all the force they have-
the hide their scars
because they think
they need
active protection

whereas
you feel

you want

to stretch out hands
and touch

You say
You cannot lie-
Love, that's particularly why
I love you.

That's the thing
that binds me
to you
and pushed me far away, before.

...That half
does not make compromises
always shouts yes
and never whispers

always exhales
always sees all colours
never says their names

always knows mass
and no numbers

calls for help immediately
and always helps, without doubt

jumps in puddles
rings doorbells without waiting
takes big bites off all nice cakes

always speaks from the heart
cause she knows nothing else to speak from

loves fully, always

takes fear by the hand and talks to it,
quietly

and merges.

You are
A masterpiece a super
Seismograph
And now
You do not only register
The scary earthquakes
Now you can
Rediscover
The complete power of
Your full technology

Shadows of flames dance
across their
pale and
sweaty faces
deepening the
wrinkles on
both wrinkled
foreheads
eyes bowing
over a scripted
problem
not knowing
where
or why
to find
the missing
particle

Both try hard
tried hard
to consult
uplift
amend
each other
in this sweaty
slightly devastating
search

Both try
like always
to stick to their very own
defining
way and manner of doing
and speak in such a way that
they don't need to fear the
loosing of themselves

Yet both
and this is new

face

each other
with a little more
curiosity
a little more
edgy
allowing the
tingling between
their legs just
a little more

Still
unconsciously
giving time to
themsleves
their selves
to see
fully
the shiny faces
to face
courageously
each other's
shiny eyes

I forgot the steps
In between
And thus the chaos, dear
Excuse me please
I'll fix it but i need
A hand in fixing
Look, here,
You know the work