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.
Beyond Language 