waking up with shattered glass in my eyes      a frosted stomach a piece of the heart darkened a beautifully pierced shadow     and the night still lingering     laying in a gigant ocean-bed of infinite fleshy pounding hearts that will bloom with time    …

To You that was it. So our We-space ends. I sit with the rest, trying to make sense. Questions to the World. Questions to myself ( empty all dried up hanging in thin air like dropped suspended frozen, left behind ) From here: Where to turn… How… CAN I connect?

I have spent several nights here by myself at the house. The contrast between day and night in this place is striking. The daytime offers a breathtaking beauty, and I enjoy my time here so much, particularly in the garden. However, when night falls, fear takes hold of me, and…

With my eyes closed… sensing. Stomach, heart and taste buds getting ready. The beginning of a smile in my hips, and the touch of the air on my lips anticipate the sweet taste of here and now.      

Do you remember? Can you? Maybe it was just a moment. Maybe it was many. Sweaty bodies packed with instruments, clowns and wonder dust. Lose yourself in the stimuli. Tap into the harmonic. Heartmonic. Harmanic. Heartmanic. Which one is it again? Leopard print pants. Drawing with lipstick all over your…

  Epilogue Bumblebee’s Biography is elusive, does not seem to want to take a clear form. It feels like such a non-issue, in the here & now. An existence mostly (rather than a sequence of distinct events)… stretching over time, suspended in it, floating, flowing, continuous, undramatic… yet far from…

The Missing Touch. At a time, a star high above all of the others were overwhelmed by the beauty all around it. It shed a tear, and the teardrop fell straight down and was clear as a crystal. The teardrop had no edges, no sharp points, sides or corners on…

The holding hand is brought to life, when I lie on the ground and my only focus is to inhale and exhale, while I warm my heart and stomach with my hands. When I hold my hands on the same direct spot for a while, it feels like I’m hugging…

The Crack of Light will forever be a searcher. Wandering the dark surface of earth and finding cracks from beneath and above. Crack of light is stimulating the good and hopeful in all earthly creatures. Through a contrast of darkness he finds light and advocates others to approach it while…

° ° . An Alluviation of words ° unspoken ° ° I rive you . . if you let me ° ° and compose the sound of decay ° ° ° so you ° can spring . . . . . . TIMER