Infinite journey,  
Arrives, lives, then fades away..
Memory's erased.…

I just want someone to look at me
To see me,
For all that I am
Look AT me-
Not through me
And past where I stand

I just want someone to know me,
To feel me,
To want who I am

And for a second,
Quite briefly,
I think our eyes met
And that scared me so bad
I immediately left

tonight the sky.

dark palette.

the stars are projectors.
the paintings of them are in
perpetual motion,
carry the zero.

conflicted still life.
of spathodea.
of pomegranate.
of her own folded-up *****.

it's all in how you interpret
the brushwork.
girls can tell.

a reassuringly dull sunday
turns to intrigue.
the busy girl buys beauty.

people are places and things.
lost affections in a room
in need of images
or at least explanations.

she looks for it.
she listens for them.

the sound of existing.
the sound of a quiet room.
a rainstorm or possibly the sound
of someone taking a shower.

blind little rain.

autosleeper lowers her head.
the economy of sleep patterns.
and little else celsius.

tonight the sky.

tomorrow a place where
one can ruin oneself,
go mad, or commit a crime
with paint.

its the breeze making the leaves of the sycamores sing
a whispering visit from who knows where
the wind comes at will and all a sudden is gone
a bit like everything else except the timing-
could be here longer or shorter its just a question
of dying.

is to be able to breathe.

this first & foremost activity,

is the very permit missionary

authorizing us to instigate & create

our very own self~definition, thus our

cognition is the product of our ignition!

oxygen to breathe is the stuff of our

dreams

some days the full force of what you are up against is felt most keenly
- tested to take heart
standing up with your belief love has conquered the world.