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Spaghetti knots

Hit and run

Does a man who

does not run

from rain

have nowhere to be

or is here where

there is no one else

that can see that even

shadows have tears

in the peace

and rejuvenation

of self?


Sinking city

with a car for a lighthouse

I rock on the road

holding on to the steering wheel

like an inflated buoy

while the sea comes from above

forcing me underwater

in a submarine

looking out of the glass

and I think I see myself in front

reflected in the world of a drop

so I swerve to avoid

the complications of injuring me

because I’m known to complain

and feel pain far too strongly

but the motor overturns

and the sky meets the ground

and the steering wheel collapses my chest

like a deflated buoy

and I wake hours later

when the blue belongs again

to the ocean overhead

and I am nowhere to be seen –

I must’ve missed me


We are the biggest things in the universe

connected by little feet

that sometimes dance awkwardly

over the whole

that rotates around just as poorly

for the universe and us understand

nothing more than

how to hop around to harmony

that not everything can hear

and even less

can respond in a wave

of light

or lanky, loose arms

About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters. Follow my wordpress or my IG (@_kenkan)


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