A Two
the speed of light is not correct
there are more things melting than solid
the wind itself behaves badly
and there is also my neurosis
that forces me to sleep on the left side
every morning I age a year
and at night I come back from the world with nothing
the sidewalk shakes and the posts fall one by one
on the horizon the images flicker
I wish it was all illusion
that dinner could be quick and painless
without this insistence with photos
to vomit our appearance
you didn't notice
that we don't know who we are?
I'm tired of preparing myself for happiness
and maybe she won't even come.
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