It is our striving to heal the joint hurt
that we all call life

You could hide behind obvious
But you could never hide behind clarity

No matter how complete
I may think I am
you complete me
with your incompleteness.

A poet suffers for his part
In writing ink that stains his heart.

Just logged in for the first time in 11 years.....

And the simplest whisper of your voice could make every hair on my neck stand at attention.

Let me whisper something in your ears:
Hush!
silence
hears everything but herself.

the Irony of searching for the missing link that fastens all the meaning,
THE word
that is only heard
when we utter nothing.

How my eyes deceive me
to what seem beautiful
in oppose to
what
is beautiful

Do not invest too much in these moments because all you are going to draw from them the next moments.

H