I used to work on the
pathways that I have.
Each one was connected
so that there would be
many when I come running
from the living conutry side.
But, they have destroyed
themselves ever so slowly now
for minutes and minutes.
And, how I would want
to swim in the rivers again.
From the left to the right,
because fantasy gave
give me asylum from reason.
But, the waters transformed
themselves into fjords with beautiful,
immovable hill sides and brilliantly dark
I jumped from the water when they
became frigid, like a penguin fleeing
from the leopard seal onto an iceberg
and being hot because blood is stumbling
through the akwardly beating heart.
There I was in my black and white suit.
And here I stand, melting into a puddle of
myself. I scream and yell: Listen to me,
please! Are you there?
No echos and no one hears me.
Nothing remains after devouring
myself in that noisy silence.