selective moods
outer space grooves
universal perspective
limitless dimensions

he is the moon that shines down on me when i'm lost in the labyrinth of a cornfield at one in the morning

and he is the sun that peeks behind the clouds after a misty afternoon spent studying at the local library

he is the sand that shifts under the sea in the wake of a creature rising up from a good afternoon slumber

and he is the sky that envelopes the world in a palette of colors that reminds us of the passage of time and time again

he is a house built on love and passion with pillars that shake but never break as the earth falters and cries

and he is the horizon that paints my perspective a burning flame the intensity of a wildfire nobody in the vicinity foretold

he is the breeze that greets me on the balcony as i laugh with strangers that assure me i am doing just fine

and he is the moment of being half-asleep when i mumble my words in response to my mother who kisses my cheek

he is the lexicon of forbidden words that i store behind the door at the back of my heart which beats once in a while

and he is the silence that infiltrates the damp mood but also gives me a draft on which i ink the first beats of a song

how can you expect me to be good in everything,
how can you expect me to have good grades all the time ,
how can you expect me to look lovely,
when i am just a human.
my creaking heart is already trying to survive from this riot
and i am just this little to almost lose myself in this transitory hallucination

don’t you dare expect me to be something,
even if it’s for my own good.
i am my own good.
and i’ll make it out alive

Why does the sun shine
on empty branches?
The wind rustles the grass
like I rustle my guitar.
Wish the clouds could
take me to Paris.