I feel him—
feel his absence.
getting better
greener, younger,
like a tree sprouting from earth
new life or, a rebirth

solemnly, quietly
I hear time passing
the paperweight of the trees
my memory clear
feeling is rest
it spreads into nothing

psychotic and
a learning experience
why now
two unlived lives
the curtains of your being
drawn closed at the dawn

I write
I race

why is light
so damn emotional?
writing is desire
further nudity
real, raw—
freshly satisfying

I follow my thoughts
I am alive but still
nothing happens
the world is born
everything is vanishing
both dead and living