(an attempt)

desperate to control the breaths 

my body autonomously produces

as if it would allow me to reign

the sky’s sculpture-like clouds.

as they hover, 

mere moments pass before my perception 

meets your face

in the sweet ponds of blue.

I do not dare to ponder towards 

where I would drift

if my body would let me.

I fear that it’s fog

and not really

you.

Hey There; I'm Really Trying

Only 2 years since I visited this place. But never mind that.
I'm really trying to write lately. Too many feelings, experiences, people, politics to keep inside.The problem is - not enough words. Not sure it was always a problem.


Anyway...


Orphaned attempt #1
I hide precious words under stones
I cannot lift or carry,
so it would be possible to pretend
that my thoughts are
elsewhere.

Orphaned attempt #2
I have inhaled your breath once;

now I’m lost inside it,

roaming endlessly

with no heartbeat to follow.

A song to go along with it all