I look at you and see
all the things I won't allow myself to be
and think: you ought to change
I know you feel it
we both grow short, and sad
But when I lift my eyes and meet myself
you grow tall and fall in love
and ask me for this dance
 

 

 

I wish to have this book
printed on paper
an actual book
So I could put my face in the middle of it
and sleep like I don't have things to do
 

 

 

Soul's Prerogative
 

 

 

Don't go North, they'd say
your bears are sleeping
you'll get down and won't get up
till snowdrops
But I want to read a book in hygge
and learn the art of cinnamon rolls
Yet here I am
fighting the pace of winter
 

 

 

Exhaustion sure opens up
gates to worlds beyond one's mind
It's gripping there, you can't hold on
Bypassing structures you dive in
aligned and helpless, and unclothed
Your shoes are dangling from the sky
your time's a fog, your eyes - a guillotine