Umanità

e maechachamae ale chaschas hiskya myumyu a hiskyab maecha

dipingendo

I imagine you as porcelain
unwaked on a bed of blades

Dipingere.

Is the mind more intimately connected to sound
and at what scale does it register
watching wooden (or are they woodland) creatures
glide across the sands
to the hushed whisper of the sea.
What portal is most personal?
the window in your eyes
or hopping through your gallery
do I seek to see my own face
staring, gawking,
from behind pastel?
what moves me, as I feel I'm wayward swept
as if at sea.
scattered pieces of a jigsaw on the table,
a few, on the floor.
a paintbrush
a pen.

Caramel!