Too often I stumble.
Too often a helix hangs heavily in the air
Yesterday I was two cloves of crushed garlic.
Two days ago on the perpetual snowline I stood.
Today I am a shriveled beetle or
The beaten snake is me.
Now and then I stand with an unlit candle.
Without knocking darkness sneaks and extinguishes my lighted window.
I am afraid I have to make a monster smile tomorrow!
I will fear a melted sun two days later…
But all these whisper to me;
“But one thing is for sure…
One day you will buy the sky
And create a comedy with Shakespeare!”