You and I.
Beginning of a sentence and its end.
Face looking down to lift up pants.
I stand up and sit back.
A piece of meat, three vegetables on my plate.
Reality and dream. Procession and a brothel.
I have the right, I am not allowed.
You know that everything goes but eternity is doing great, it always does,
at every second.
I miss and it snatches my mind and distracts my heart from beating. I am
Death is always around.
After three days a fourth one comes along, but I don’t remember when and
what will happen.
I rely on my instinct. Logic controls me.
Poetry. A row of bare facts.
How much are tomatoes today? Art.
When I open my wardrobe, I don’t know what to put on.
Out my window, the sweltering sky beckons me to take a stroll.
With inspiration put aside I come out