on subjectivity

nothing interesting in the movement of hands,
only in what made them tremble, dance.
or the feet, 
the eyes, 
the lips, 
the head, 
the arms, 
the legs, 
the neck, 
the chest;
the only interesting thing in them,
was what picked their interest.

smaller than everything large

the coffee in my hand is bigger than the other side
their whole world could fit into my hand
but they exist!
fragile– parallel worlds;
just patience and eyes
and they become.
and they appear.
and if you wait just enough,
like you,
into dust they return.

monotonous journey

and one day I create a movie of my own.
where nothing will happen and everything will.
the epitome of boredom it will be.
the cure for insomnia.
no drugs, no pills,
monotony is the best antidote to the deprivation of sleep.