I sat by the fountain,
watching the sun play out
the last moments of summer
in the company of young and old,
each of us attracted to its laughter.

And a voice spoke out
of a corner of this retreated peace

"It's the end of something.
At least the start
of something ending.
It's the end of many things
that you've grown accustomed to,
that have grown around you
and within you - rooted.
And so you may wonder -
- will the roots simply die from neglect?
(Has that dying already begun
from past neglect? Discuss.)
Or will you have to find the will
to uproot them?
- will the pain be worth the excavation?
- will the freeing of them better free you?
Or will you one day be grateful
for the remains of what was?

"So, for now, carry the remains.
Carry the scars and the stains.
Walk with confidence through this ending."

I listened to the voice in the quiet.
And sat with the fountain a while longer.
Knowing I'll find the decision sooner
or later. For tomorrow, it was September.

You burn with pride, a blazing crown,
And cast your glory halfway down.
You offer me a borrowed gleam,
To wear your light, to live your dream.

They call it love, that golden gleam,
But I am tired of your dream.
For what is love if I must be
A paler shape that mimics thee?

You rise and all the world takes note;
They write you songs, they learn by rote.
But me? They only praise my face
When I am bathed in your embrace.

I’ve played that role, taking on your fire,
But I am no echo of your bold desire.
It’s this, I’d rather not be bright
If I must steal another’s light.

Let others ache to share your flame,
To chase your warmth, to speak your name,
But none of them see what is true:
That all I am is made from you.

So keep your gold. I’ll take the gray.
I want to dim, to drift, and to decay.
To be myself alone, though small and plain.
A hollow stone, without your chain.

Let planets spin around your throne,
But I would rather be unknown.
Do not shine for me, bright one.
I want no light that comes from sun.

i obsess over you
you are the sun
in my eyes
I go blind
as you rise
what loathed sweetness,
you are fine silver
of the dagger
in my chest
gleaming whilst I stagger
what a joyous agony!

I woke early and walked
as if by advancing
with my back to the sun
I might outpace
what was to come.

As if my futures may
for a while, be kept at bay
As if I might yet sojourn this day
and elude the shadows
of what was to come

I walked until today was spent
and empty-handed,
I entered my advent

i sat in the forest --
picking up leaves
and ripping them
in different ways,
different shapes
because everyone is different.

and they all break differently.

i picked a once green leaf
that was staring to brown
on the edges.

i ripped it
and it didn't break
slowly
like the others.

it just fell apart
in my hands.

but it made me look up at the
sunbeams
slipping between
the tall forest trees.

realising,
not everyone breaks slowly.

some people crumble and fall apart
all at once.

and that's okay.

Let me breathe;🧘🏻‍♀️
with the breeze,
where sun is shining,
       with a peep..🫣

It seems as carpet;
    of some blooms, 🌸
     that make a vibe;
       full of gleams 🥰

I woke up. And we were on some mission... Walking fast like dinosaur robots gentle.

All made of metal. The autumn red sun shone too strong...
We were almost bird-like steeples, foetuses tip-toeing along.

I kept trying to stare at your face but I couldn’t.
But now I get it... We were meant to be erasing something...

Still I Kept trying to turn my head, and it kept on hurting. Finally managed to twist hard enough, this giraffe neck with curtains...

Then saw them. Your silver slits twinkling, wriggling like silverfish or were they zig zagging...
Trying not to see me... set on the dream engineered *** of gold somewhere on our periphery.

I think... How did you turn your head? Did it hurt as much as it did for me... Do you feel as ageing?

Then we suddenly look deep into these dolphin-human souls, retracing our maze of complex inclusion...

As our senses are heightened, and our bodies implode, joining liquid time segments of something we hold...
Our spirals give out– as all broken cycles crash into a new spate rising spout.

I, east to west,
west to east,
like a sunflower,
turn toward you.
You, like the sun entire,
make me revolve
around yourself.
🌻🌄