I lie in a bed in
the hospital that
we lay down
in together a
couple of years ago.
I held her.
She was tired after
work.
I can't go anywhere that
memories
don't haunt me;
chase me
like a rabid dog.
But,
this is too much.
I can see her,
smell her,
taste her.
And my
heart breaks when
I open
my eyes, and
face the loveless
sun
like a knife.

There is a crime that
goes beyond
denunciation.

There is a sorrow,
a hollowness
that weeping
can't even begin
to symbolize.

There is a failure in
life
that topples and
belittles all
success.

When trying to focus on
life
is like looking through
a kaleidoscope,
when sounds liquify, and
odors take shape and
waltz
to sullen night music,
life must end.

Life must end because
a profit can no longer be
ripped from your
hands, your knowledge,
your punctuality, or your
dedication to
the machine.

Ever since I can remember,
I sensed the
randomness of it
all.
I fought against it
I had faith; I believed.

Doubt is the essence of human’s curiosity
Would we still be who we are without questioning reality?

Is reality what’s accessible to my senses
Or rather everything time and evolution invented?
Should it be considered universal and deprived of pretenses
Or rather individual, plural, subjugated?

Is it reasonable to bring face to face only two options?
Comparable to a coin with only two faces
Heads or tails, should we hang on theses restrictive notions
When nature is diversity fed by past and ongoing races?

Isn’t it unnerving to envision reality as something relative
When answering to what’s real seem to be so intuitive?

Maybe we can find an answer in its definition
“The state of things as they actually exist”
While keeping in mind that every rule has an exception

It’s nonetheless “opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of things” *
Even though experiments stem from our imagination
Before exposing to the world subsequent findings

It would be pretentious to say I hold the definitive answer
I wish I did, If I’m candid, but it’s not a “no brainer”

I can only give my humble and honest opinion
Raised by my formal education
Reality at the end is what I can see
Through at least one lens between the world and me.

Non stop time-space tango.
Five senses twist and turn stories!
Retreat to greater time.

I wonder what I look like to you.
As your eyes carefully look at me,
Am I as ugly as I seem or as pretty as I deem to be?
Am I a painted perfect picture or a full funny fantastic mess?
Am I what you’re looking for?

I wonder what do I smell like to you.
As I walk past you,
Am I your colors mixed of pink and purple into an ombre affect?
Am I the sweet smelling flowers that draws you in or the soft blue skies that warms up your heart?
Am I what catches your attention?

I wonder what I feel like to you
As we touch,
Am I the touch that electrifies you and makes your heart skip a beat?
Am I the soothing soul that relaxes you into drowning real deep?
Am I what pulls you in?

I wonder what does my voice sound to you.
As we speak the words that we do,
Am I the cause of your laughter or the cause of your anger?
Am I the soothing voice that talks to you at three in the morning?
Am I what you want to listen to?

I wonder what I taste like to you
As we never have before,
Am I what you’re craving for as I wish our lips would touch like hands in hand
Am I the bitter honeybee comb that you long for?
Am I what you want?

Please tell me.
Softly and carefully,
I wonder, what will it be.

Lovely, the murmur

of the sea, the cars, the trees –


I smell where I am.

what do you see when you see them?
their smile? is it something about their personality? tell me.


now, what do you taste when you think of them? is it their body? or a food that tastes like a memory of them? tell me that, too.


what do you hear when you think of them? their laugh? their favorite song? their sleep talking? keep going.


what do you feel when you think of them? their hands? their heartbeat? talk to me.


now, what do you smell when you think of them? their own smell? maybe their favorite flower? tell me.