November 16, 2018

The moss thought

What is growing only for itself? 
Singular selfishness, a preservation of space-taking?
Not sure what is a less harmful indulgence

The contaminated liverwort growth
Of each other
Winds of mercy want us to come back
We left for a reason and are not theirs
Possessing not a positive
To take because
Belonging nowhere

Babies manifest as what?
Sometimes they are hate, of the fact that souls are
Infinitely disposable
As bodies
Alot alot
Excessively alot

A soul, our souls are
in between I and I
A baby is the sadness of not enough time

Insignificant possession idle
In the water
Slipped
Beautiful clouds not for us
Confide
In the irreparable damage
From body’s
Secret pocket
Separate
Of souls

The egg represents
Death, hate, sadness, pain
That is dependent on
Love, happiness, life, pleasure
And other opportunities of insignificance

No moon

No breathing moon