you're reading...
Spaghetti knots

whom

who are these people with their eyes closed

comforted in the exhaustion of every day

found in the yawning mouths of the subway

who are these couples with bags off

to other countries, who have packed

essentials for moments that maybe i

would include myself and yet who

carry on without me

who are these babies who watch

people like i in an unspoken language

which they will word through some time later

though they will say as little as i do now

who am i to them

to myself reflected in them

to myself seeing myself

in the tiniest infinity of

i eyeing i eyeing i

who are the ones who do not ask

who

who are the ones who do

do they meet my greedy gaze

do they see me writing this

do they wonder if they are contained

in the scheme of this strange chance encounter

in lifetimes that come just as happenstance

as a bee-sting or the dripping honey before

who are those who had a sex change

who are those who had an abortion

who were almost aborted

who wants to weigh their tired sleepless skull

onto another bruising brain that shares the same heaviness

that beats to his heart

that cries like my heart that loves

like my heart that is broken and

breaking and beautiful like my heart

and who could hold my heart even if i may

not be able to do the same to theirs

who smells

who farts too often

who has been known to enjoy pimple popping

for a reason they cannot explain

who watch the homeless with hope mixed

with fear, with confusion of whether

the change they want is more

for themselves than the man prostrated

in useless prayer to too many soulless gods

searching for a temple to transform into

a simple home with a shower and a bed

who are the ones who consider themselves twos

who can understand this but also that

who do not worry

about the complications of comprehension

but will rest past their

station in accidental serenity against a city

that pours away in shimmering superb

light

one that maybe is found in maybe

and perhaps in who we all wish to be

but who we never are

in our uncertain starting

and certain stopping

again

About kacperniburski

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

Discussion

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: