geography of light

Thursday 11 February 2021

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piotr: Warsaw, Poland; 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 healthy. 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