I saw a yellow house
a pillow
and a mother
that would not explain

the wind carried
the stars
like debris
my tongue’s tip
did not catch any

how the sadness
clings onto
the rustle of a leaf

I could describe
with lines and perspectives
the memory that
brought me here

beyond that memory
empty flashes of shadows
and hungry panthers of light

I saw

my hand
touch the world
like a
mirror
reflecting
a dance.

 

 

 

Nihilistic Poetry