The chair vanishes. A rope breaks. This man will open his eyes. ******, I am still here. Who is death? To no surprise, my mind trembles. No forgiveness will engulf this moment. The beach bows under the morning sun. Some of the reflection is lost. A few cracks unhinge themselves. You are never what I think. My fingers move in a gentle fashion. The moon will do no looking tonight. What do you think it’s like? The clouds do not forget to remind me. I keep looking at you. There is a moment in which the moon illuminates the water. The weather is melancholy at best. At this point, you are a ghost.

Sleep comes before morning. Forget who you are. I will tell you how I deal with emptiness. You made me who I am. At this point, the road split off onto a gravel passage. This light creates a subtle gradient. I am a corner of space. Their backs are facing me. God, it’s so cold. The wet rock looks dead. No, it is a green bench. Two dogs look in the same direction. My mind loops back on itself. *Is this what I encompass?