load ing

it turns out the load is heavier than expected.

it turns out the turns are unexpected.

Inside it is all worn out from tearing itself inside.

loveliness is finished.

pure shores have disappeared when the heart has learnt to love and to attach itself

onto a boat that has taken it around the world of gravity

to float is rare, to sink is common.

when stars are so far away and are already dead when their light reaches me, where else can I look to

to believe that love can do wonders

I wonder I wonder I wonder

other than you

Good and gone

I became friends with
myself again
yesterday.
Ignored the clicks, the cracks
and the spasms
of furniture
molecules breathing,
of the window pane reacting
to Celsius' drop.

I dropped the dice
and threw myself out of
myself

to become me
in search for a wonder
that can heal wounds of ghosts.

Those who are dead
I can but do not dare

speak to.

Those alive, I believe,
are unable to under

stand

me and myself
in conflict for voice
or in love with silence.

The anti-enactment I procure
turns on as noise

verbing or unverbing
the ping pong of nothing..

Explain what you cannot explain.
Done. Now where can I find liberation?

On a snow flake, maybe.