by May 31, 2024 0 comments

First when I had heard this word I’m sure
it wasn’t the first day for me.
The first girl, always a sombre evening
full of aspects, a shadow broken on your forehead,
indigo graphs parting, a false bridge
and an unpredictable curious river leaving onto two sides.
All I now sense was all sands, fuzzed up, crepuscular.
So good.
And good means without any trial and error – an arrow,
only good to watch. Only in preparation, never shot.
I was made to smile in a topple. An unrigid ocular pack,
a window suddenly over a horizon,
window – that’s me, as if divulging out a tiny sea,
tiny, tiny.
First when I had to see a huge puddle, a grain of sand
nice to shadow everything. Everything, that is the sea.
First time, it happened nothing, but I still feel I were
snuffed out bye-bye. That to say, people all
whispering, winces, and
winces, gossiping, and gossiping, telling each other,
how she walked minutes before along the beach.
Then found nowhere.
The sun bending down to the other side by then.
And sure, lovely.

editors note:

And when she passes, each one she passes goes… – mh clay

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