
Places that feel strange, yet familiar
Wind in the spaces between my fingers-
Can I claim this air clutched in my palm as mine?
Buildings with some bricks missing-
Eyes and cameras with filters peep in
It’s beachy, blushy cheeks in the cold of winter.
I paint flowers on an unbalanced pot-
One with a red snail and one with the sun
White clouds float with the aim of filling empty spaces.
Unknown faces crowd my mind through a known screen;
I am blue in this ocean of information
A fish and fisher at the same time.
Patience eats my mind and time,
A thought sits with me at nine
Can I be mad enough to believe this world exists only for me?
Demons exhale doubt at my sticky neck-
Even if I don’t see the sun
Even if I never see air
I feel it on my skin-
Existence is a personal experience.
In the chaos of everyday, I hang a string of warm fairy lights
And rest in its glow for the night.
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~insight07
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