like a candy wrapper
thrown into
the unsuspecting wind
I feel a nervousness,
...
wishful, and thinking, yes
for another broad sunny day
to come back sweeping in
the glitters that once
...
The hands of the clock
They wave as if they’ve
Always been hurt
I cast a dark look
...
familiar stomps
on a shiny, surprised floor
flailing arms
a mouth too silent
...
When my mood
Sits itself
On an innocent swing
Prepare yourself
...
the little cuckoo clock inside my chest
has been attacked, demolished and run over
by a hundred escaped horses, galloping from
a not-so secure stable, despite its rich paint;
...
pastel blue clouds
stars suspended,
I close my eyes
stretching my hands
...
all these songs on the radio,
poetry upon yearning pages
and tales as old as time…
...