one time
i told my body i do not want you
your arms are loose
like flaps of paper about to fly away
...
My love
i am writing you a poem
it is short and i could
not even finish it
...
What i lack, is perhaps,
what i have not understood fully well,
the bones are here
the flesh are growing smoothly,
...
If by this time
you still have nothing to write
try getting out of the house
see the world
...
De-list some friends
i am told
After all the simplicity of
...
I am back
to open a closed door
to begin anew
starting with the stairs and the floor
...
to keep sane
one keeps talking
to himself
the desert listens.
...
the wisdom of
a fly sometimes lies
on its capacity
to be
...
It is not easy to be alone.
everyone confirms this.
The fear is like the sea rising
and likely to occupy the plains
...
By the window
a woman with a red ribbon
sits
...