colorless

a rock cut my foot.

on the beach.

some blood gushed out.

the sea ate it.

and it lost all color.

never to come back again.

except in a dream.

one night. wherein 

i saw the water come back.

colorless. 

and approaching me 

it turned all red.

as if 

wanting to go back in.

i knew at that moment

that i am in a dream.

like i do

when i see you.

untitled

standing on the shore
and watching
the empty boat vacillate
just like that
on and on
without
anything around
changing at all
is wonderful

untitled

roads have their own way
of luring the traveler.
despite all that wilderness can offer
the loneliness it sells
is conspicuously self-deprecating.
conspiring glorification.
roads, on the other hand
are replete
with downtrodden loneliness.
that wears you down.
without anyone noticing.
before it warms you.
and takes you in forever.