Day 1803, white window

I see something interesting

behind those dark windows


I can’t see inside

only the part

that faces me


and that is white

like a blank piece of paper

Day 1801, slave revolt.

We are all slaves

Taken apart

by the time

we live in


you can step on me

as a slave

but your freedom

to hurt me

guides me


shows me an other way

into you


Day 1800, the right tool.

I have to treat you

when you surface



when you’re in the corner

or stretched out



either way

I have to be sharp

and treat you

your excess

Day 1799, small.

I only see the shadow

in front of me

of the door

I stand in

and half opened


is it because I feel

so small


or because the door


so big

Day 1798, corrugated.

I saw these two hand prints

in the dust


the corrugated glass


I wondered if it was you

and me

trying to feel



or did you never touched

what us divides

while I waited

Day 1797, open up.

It seems that I can only open up

these windows

all at once

and let the fresh air in


maybe I have to break

just one of them

to only let you in

Day 1796, between.

I saw through the ice

a shape emerging


I don’t know if it was you

that let me see

or me


but we know

it’s something between us

and the ice

Day 1795, I forget.

I see a lot of tracks

leading away

and towards


I know I made some

when I wandered around


but I forget

if I don’t see a pattern

Day 1794, model number.

I shine with my light

on the model number I am


besides the number

I see no warning lights

but my hour counter

is stuck


do I want to upgrade

or just live on without counting

Day 1793, tools.

My tools

are not as old as I am


they are part of me

but not unique


they can be passed along

when I am gone


if someone wants them

Day 1788, windows.

I wander

in my head


searching for a view

through a window in the rooms

facing the side

where the sun goes down


as if beauty

or the hope of a next day

beholds an answer

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑