The air is infested with loneliness. The mountains stand high, united in isolation. The gravity of the isolation is soaked into the earth, so the wind can remain carefree. And so they all played together, under the sun.

Because I can see your smile once, not twice.

A shade of yellow
Or a speck of orange,
A gleam of purple
Or a dot of red,
Slowly waking
                         up to myself-
I am moving through me.
                  A birth that feels like ending,
           A death that feels like beginning,
       I am ending, I am starting,
I am living,
       Finally moving.

Every wave that rides the ocean
Crashes a bit further from me.
Why is it hard
To be swept away?
Wading into a receding tide,
One after the other,
Washing away a piece of me
Yet leaving me behind.
I wade in,
Walking then drowning,
Chasing waves and throwing sands.

Written on a broken door:
"Touch me not
Or I will fall apart",

I laughed,
While I passed the moor -

Here is another broken thing,
Trying to protect its broken wing.

My life in retrospect
As I slowly unfold,
Feels like overbeaten eggs
So the cake no longer holds.

But I began to slowly wonder
Why does it need to hold?
What if it falls apart,
A story finally being told?

May be I poke it - if too dry,
May be I let  it crumble,

In a pudding  or a
poke cake,
I will not let it waste.

Won't you still have a piece?

You perceive not the fire
Cause you perceive not my mind.

But  the worst that you do ,
Dear world, is,
You make me doubt my time.