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it’s 2018, seven days in

and i’ve already become so familiar with its garden 

seduced by this oasis of new beginnings, 

of change.


And there’s this feeling that weighs more than my usual breaths 

filled with more desires and more ideas

that presses heavily on my lungs and I fiddle with it with flying thoughts …


“where are you now?” 




I take this question to heart and soon rupture its seams 

and i start all over and i close my eyes and i smile inside as salty tears make their way onto my  

                                                      l   i   p s


it’s 2018 and that means change (?)

yet as i read this word           c h a

                                                      n g e

I wonder about its veracity; people don’t change. I believe they simply rediscover something that was already there. And perhaps that’s neither good or bad —I still have smoky photographs in my mind of people dear to me “changing”. i was in the midst of taking it in. i know it by heart, that foamy feeling of surprise, of anguish, of relief. Yet I forgot to be soft and have faith. There is no such beautiful, blessed thing as change. 

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and i wonder why i’ve never crossed oceans for someone and i wonder why i’ve never crossed the world for someone and i wonder why i’ve never put my faith in someone and all i’m left with is an emotional debris of the past. and perhaps, an ocean ought to be crossed even if a puddle would not be crossed in return. perhaps love should not be conditional.





And with the coming of a new year; a new metamorphosis of thoughts 

I choose the direction of love. My deepest desire: to express love, a mysterious fragrance to my knowledge, i lead myself gently upwards. 


and i trust myself 


i trust it. i have faith.