Day 1622, at last.

The patterns I see

are forming letters


the words are there

but I need more distance


for the sentence

I need

to turn away


and to understand

I have to wait

till I close my eyes

Day 1619, a hand.

A handprint

in a gravel beach


the upcoming tide

hasn’t yet

taken it



did someone


themselves up


or did they stop

a fall



they just wanted to feel

the cold gravel

Day 1618, seven.

A black dot



standing at the end

of a long sentence



so he could write on



to deny him

a new line

Day 1611, looking.

When I sit

and look

like an eagle


watching what you do

hiding like a shadow

behind you


I search for



in you

Day 1610, overrated.

I like your embrace

it feels like cold

steel wires

hugging me



is overrated

when you live

in a cold world


lets be honest

Day 1608, fell.

Day 1608.jpg

A dividing wall

lay flat

on a corrugated

blood soaked

metal floor


there are no people here

they are long gone

mending their wounds


the wall fell

but who

will raise it again

Day 1607, water hose.

Day 1607.jpg

We’ll keep them

hanging around

even though

they are cut up

in so many pieces

that they are



you can no longer

water your soil

with them


my dear old


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