sueño de anoche

Se me habían clavado unas astillas y los dedos empezaban a sangrarme. Me chupaba las yemas para detener la hemorragia. Tal vez el sueño esté relacionado de alguna manera con este poema.

truth # zero

and what are we but a big wound in a constant state of healing

fall and rise

yesterday: two eggs with a double yolk
an owl

today: the rising Harvest Moon

I've never been one to
believe
in clichés nor in anything else

I'm one who opens arms and looks and finds and lets it all in
and tries to feel it until it dissolves and melts and fades and goes back to black again