365 Self, weeks 7 & 8

Week seven, outside: 44. "is the spring coming?" he said. "what is it like?"

45. and there the moon-bird rests from his flight to cool in the peppermint wind.

46. she says nothing at all, but simply stares upward into the dark sky and watches, with sad eyes, the slow dance of the infinite stars.


47. it is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.

48. they slither wildly as they slip away across the universe

49. and all this devotion was rushing out of me.

50. life is bristling with thorns, and i know no other remedy than to cultivate one's garden.

week eight, motion: 51. but a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.

52. those kinds of dreams that are like usual life, except that a lot of things are not the same

53. all the colors i am inside have not been invented yet.

54. yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart

55. i had rescued the moment by using my camera and in that way had found how to stop time and hold it.

56. and if you do not like me so, to hell, my love, with you.

57. because they could not break out from their own web of shyness and reserve


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