Comfort

Comfort is when I quote you
Comfort is leaving home
Comfort is traveling
Comfort is hearing sounds
Comfort is silence



Don't scream but hide in a shell.

Hair Comber

metal -- wood

metal -- wood

metal
and


wood.

Ring

the doorbell

and I
will

get it.

Step

and step,

and once more.


Come
on, sing

along.

Wood and
wood
and metal
and wood.


and do it alright
but never move.
don't, dear.
keep your hair
sweetly combed.

Therefore

It is



quite funny
to think
and look back,

Who knows if it's
the right step?

The answer

may lie in trees

or in your hair.
Or elsewhere.

Let it be.




It is

good

to know
there's still a sane mind out there

that waits or seeks and haunts, maybe.



It is

quite rewarding
to smile

and never think
about

the rest.



Therefore I smile.

Sample

dare you to
peer into a cauldron
and take a sample
of ooze
and
then
see it
for yourself

-

and
the
turmoil keeps
building
up
like a
stack
of cards
raising
more


and more

-

long you,
perhaps less
but
still
when did
this
happen?

-

maybe one day
we will know
or






not.

from teeth that sink on flesh

from teeth that sink on flesh

and mouths that whisper, all together, in synch
at noon

to

secretly uttered cold breaths,
truly disguised,
but meaningful,
lingering
beneath
your fingertips

and

almost
reaching
mine

Three Paths Carved

1) Present

This is not the end, because I chose to.





And if the tombs of ancient foretellers reverberate in scorn of the choices that were made

(because, after all, they forged the hill that marked the start.
They deserve to know even after death)

And if the birds of field no longer humble themselves down,
if the water of the well decides not to hand itself over,

If grass turns a shade of orange,
if machines stop obeying,

If dark grey clouds decide to never let rain fall,
and the sun chooses to swallow nickel, for a change,

If earth itself decides to lose its shape
and nature decides to shut down:

Only then, I will know that time is precise, because I will not be outside until earth is too.



2) Past

There indeed was a time in which I would shake my fingers, just to make sure they responded,
and there were five fingers alright, and five knuckles, which danced.

And then, I would say: when my thighs weaken
I will rip myself open, with the help of the continents, but only the ones that feed on dirt, mildew, and moist, and save arms, legs and shoulders.

And I had a tendency to gobble your eyes everytime,
and their blindness, their chasteness
revolved, like an army of prideful auras, blinking.

But the canyon of your face
Flared, and died out.

Repeatedly.






Sometimes, I would think I needed to summon the sun,
for it to measure us both.

I still do.





3) Future

Plants grow yet they're vulnerable and weak and tender,
which is not how they're supposed to be,

still,

in the same form

of growth

I shall learn,

and I will call out nature and those creatures that are kept inside the tombs,
seeking comfort.


The chances we once embraced have vanished away,

still, chances of a far encounter suddenly appear,
of a very, very far one.

which makes me declare:


I can already tell how it will be.

And when it does happen,
I will make sure
to hug


air.


Despite lack of.

Magnet

It was an easy ride

I spot meteors all the
time

sealed in discomfort not thriving

(like a seed would watered and with firm roots)

instead sinking like mist belongs to atmosphere


thin

air

lacks

of

any form of strength

whatsoever



and there were no facts rather theories shaken with battered brains spilled out

and brain not
connecting with hands nor feet

sunk
in
deep

in a maze of pure junk moving gliding with

ripe

flowers
leaves hair and vultures

and

hand me a rope stomping
on the skeletons

tongue-in-cheek

I swear I saw you
consumed
I do not need to go through this again


What will I become when the seeker meets the haunted
and the hunter meets the one being sought

?