The poem
Between going and staying the day wavers, in love with its own transparency. The circular afternoon is now a bay where the world in stillness rocks.
All is visible and all elusive, all is near and can't be touched.
Paper, book, pencil, glass, rest in the shade of their names.
Time throbbing in my temples repeats the same unchanging syllable of blood.
The light turns the indifferent wall into a ghostly theater of reflections.
I find myself in the middle of an eye, watching myself in its blank stare.
The moment scatters. Motionless, I stay and go: I am a pause.
its cool it reminds me of so much
th9s poem really gets to me *sniff*
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:D
At first i did not really GET this poem,
but when i did, i thought it was a really good one haha