Friday, January 7, 2022

Perfectly Unholy

 

I remember loving this mistake

like stepping on a starfish

hanging from slow motion

I loved a mistake

it felt terrific

it hurt like pain

I played griffin

I invented violin

I remember loving this mistake

like nothing I’ve felt

like vampires under sunlight

if love would burn

I sound so simple

so slow and simple

I remember absorbing wishes

upon a mistaken whisper

so close to confessing it

utter unclarity

I remember loving this mistake

What Does Life Picture Itself?

    Life is rhythmic, full of patterns. Life requires measures. Life is often a tad bit uncomfortable, just enough to register on a radar. A...