How it falls
Does not describe how it turns,
Does not represent how it follows
How it travels,

How it washes away a rock
A body
A whale,
Does not represent how it lifts
How it relates to other mass

How it breaks with movement
Around me
Far from you,


Under your foundation

Does not help you understand
How it’s fragile,
How it’s strong,
How both things are possible in that state


Of holding everything needed for a body to breath,

To grow, to evolve
To destroy everything
While thinking it’s preserving itself.


How it exists
How it spins

Does not represent
How it works

Does not describe
How it looks

How it’s horrid,


Does not suggest
How it’s distant to something else,

Does not help you comprehend
How it lives
How its there
How it holds you
How its here, how its now
How it was,

Does not describe the speed at which it moves

Calls on the invisible.


How it creates
Does not describe how it falls

Relates to your will,

The fortune you document
You read
You share
You smile,

Does not represent how things were

How they are
How they hurt


How it’s fed,
Does not represent what we dream of

How we hold on to s string of grass,
How we worry
We wait
How we pass.




In time, they became human.
In shape of organs, bodies,
With no shape at all, the mind.

Sutil difference from what defines an origin.

Darkness parallel to light.

the state of the tide.

Moving by the laws of gravity.
Disregarding the lessons taught by space and time.


Cells obeyed mathematical abstraction,
Grew limbs catalogued by function,
By beauty according to the function of the eye.

Of these limbs they felt attached to,
Actions, of the body and the mind.


But in being human,
They were pressured from within with sorrow
A condition they defined with symbols turned to language.
Ache and punishment,
Love and life.


A sequence marked by a beginning,
A far point that counts infinity by episodes of violence,
And freedom of the mind.


An existence that resembles lessons on rhythm,


In time, they found themselves looking out into mystery,
And revealed that in every possibility
a part of them must meet death at a garden.
Sometimes hellish,
Others, sublime.

A vacant space among the stars,
A hole that pierces through an unconscious line,
And allows light to reach the cavern,
While inside it feels like pieces moving outward,
Embracing the knowledge that lies in the beauty of ideas,
In the choice of the divine.


Muscles that only agree
On the matter
of the agony of ecstasy,
and must enter in the realm of social
As avatars
And warriors,
Abstract machines
which move but have no organs,
Except for wire,
Metal expansion,
And the dynamic position that holds time.


With no body, I will call myself human
With no mind, I will recall a memory
That to me feels like the present,
Like the nebulas around me,
And the planets
And all things unrecognizable


A human,
would not recognize me
as an equal.
I am womb-less,
A distortion
Different in geometry
A shape absent of circles turned to spirals
To dances and ritual
That sometimes elevate,
Sometimes divide.


Tomorrow I will not be human,
I will recall on a condition,
A phase of absolute duality
Of haunting passion
Overcome by reason,
And clicking sounds of marching
Expanding to come-back quickly
Like a pulse,
Like the beating in their heart.




I drew a circle in my mind and called it
Some rain hit the paper presence of my thought.

The circle became mud,
I called it time.

I took my memory to sleep.
Its oval absence washed up
And morning dawn.

The image faded to a file.
The file became its place of birth.
I called it by its name.
The shape,
From the distance
I could no longer recognize,
But the earthlike presence of my
Evoked a planet,
To hold,
To keep.

I took its memory to sleep,
Only to find the night was long.
Possible and infinite
A mountain grew,
A border to its right,
A day,
This day.

The next and each.

Around the circle appeared stars,
Washed by mud.
I still dream since the night is long.
The deathlike presence of my though
Was marked as End.

They blew our memory to space.
Rocks flew by,
Something of a circle
Similar to rain.

I waken
To find the memory of shape.
Of an object I should be
With a different meaning than before,
To remember
The presence of a circle,
Of mud to begin.



As a river would
I rushed towards the fall,
The sun.
Ignorant of the elements.

As it would,
I became fog

Without knowing how to swim
I suggested movement.
I danced
Vessel to vessel
Until I was no more.

Seas of minuscule lakes
Gathered at the point of standing,
Where looking out reveals
everything bending over to fall.

And as water would
My endless body felt finite
Coming across every rock
Soaked with every root.

I evaporated
Like drops into the night
And woke up to find black birds,
Drinking from my banks.

Time revealed hints of color,
Particles becoming wave,
Mist that is not eternal.
And puddles
Left by my consciousness
Gathered upon light,
Digital in presence
Metallic in taste.

And as a river would,
I vanished in surrender




Comprehend a shape:
A sacred bundle.
Bound-together particles of time.

Fossil wrapping,
Material existence
Sound of daylight,
Moon in orbit,
Hills that roar
When I unwind.

Hold on tightly
To the fragments,

That becomes foliage,
Dirt and water,
Bloom of metal,

Bend the detailed pixel
Face to the horizon,
Blank horizon

Sacred bundle,
small and tainted,
you smell of dirt and time.

A dimension
Comes upon me
Wired fabric,
Archaic and divine.




As a task to prevail
I tune my senses deep
Into the hum of the horizon
left by galaxies that sleep.

In my task I grow eroded,
A heavy mountain turned to cave
A nest of shadows
Hold down fire,
Fire burning
At slow pace.

Now in vision
senses spiral
turning color into maze,
As a task is just an action
A tunel just a tunnel
A maze, only a maze.

And though mystery is not
revealed in shape,
The vision and the hum
expand my gaze,
A tilted angle
A broken crest
A fifth dimension
A sound in depth.

And so,
To fullfill my purpose
I orbit nothingness,
An invisible magnetic,
A field that I create.
A call on cratered surface
Fills a void in space,
Layering my body
with dust from all that’s dead,
In the hum of the horizon,
until time reveals my face.