Friday, August 17, 2012

Summer (again)

We spent away the nights
the mornings 
our pays.

We could roll down the windows 
and scream
Paper planes 
portfolios
cherry beams.

Three make one 
one made three
under the carpets
rugged 
you set us free.

Let the alien in our circumferential distances stay.
Don't loosen what is already so delicate.
 

Just a few words.

There is nothing more grasping than the incompleteness of this moment.