sunlight hits the pillow,
and the whole world shudders,
a breathe gets caught
and it fights to just exist

a hand reaches out,
warmth blooms all over the bedsheets,
the sun rays begin their dance
and the tears are absent

shouts and efflorescence,
a cacophonous impressionistic painting,
heavy steps filled with grace
one wrong turn and you fall

fall,
fall,
fall,

your legs betray you,
blood begins to spill from the open wounds,
it is true that a ton of feathers
is just as heavy as a ton of bricks

but a hand props itself,
the ocean rises and waves hit the shore,
fishermen hide their boats
a storm is yet to begin

and you fly,
with your broken wings,
and lilac bruises
and a heart that refuses to surrender

golden particles twirl high up to the sky,
the clouds begin to part,
and you as well
will you disappear

though as it starts pouring,
everything falls into place,
flowers need the downpour
in order to survive

yet sometimes it’s easier to fall asleep
let the body hit the mattress,
greatness is binding
but the cosmos won’t stop existing without you

so let your head clear,
and disappear for a while.

he moves, like a dream
—memories that resurface from murky depths,
scenes cut out from rolls of film, flickering.

he moves, like a song
—glittering stars that descend from the heavens,
the sound of water hitting the rocks, never-ending.

he moves, like a wish
—prayers from you to me, from me to you, from us to God,
deep and shallow breaths in the interstice of smiles, promising.

he moves, like a warrior
—ink that never runs out til its story has been told,
cries that can be heard from deep inside, reverberating.

he moves, and he moves
—and he stops,
chilling.

he moves.