She writes portraits
Or rather
she has found someone
who writes them for her
She considers herself a compiler of assets
Her collaborator could be
compared to an archivist
Someone who analyses content
It was no easy task to find someone
suitable
for the extent of her documentation

Sometimes she asks herself,
why recompose something so compostable
as the memory of someone?
When you miss someone,
what is it, you miss about them?
An image, a picture?
Where in your presence do they reside
when you forget about them?

The way they look at you when they ask;
should I get you a coffee?
Their voice on the other line,
breaking up through a weak connection,
telling you they are on their way,
and the way they smell
when they come pick you up from your work
Waiting outside,
the way they look
at the people passing by
and the passers by
gaze on them
How they speak
to someone over the counter

You lock eyes,
for the first time
How did they feel the first time you touched?
The way they get dressed,
asking for your opinion,
what color suits them the best?
The way they undress
How they fold their clothes
after they’ve been washed

Open the fridge, open a window,
ask for a lighter, gaze at something odd,
in the periphery of your shared frame

Is it the way they touch you
when they try to reach you,
reach through you,
that stays
when everything else has departed?
At 21.30
I crush a pinch of poppy seeds
and sprinkle them over
a cup of warm water
If I feel festive
I add a teaspoon of honey

By 22 I’m asleep,
to let my subconscious take pleasure
in four of the most productive hours of the day
these four hours could be described
with the scenery of the road sweepers
that clean up the remnants
after the closing hours of an amusement park

During these hours I’m elsewhere,
gliding through landscapes
while the frequent hum of machines
take possession of my muscles
For the remaining 4 hours of my sleep
I enter a lighter state,
I glide into a more apprehensive mode
this is where I’m able to see myself
levitating from my body
A coy moment, a moment of play,
as I ease back to my awake life

There is departure and return,
beginnings and ends
and in between there are two separate lives

In my sleep,
I feel like I dream things into infinity
When I’m awake
I learn to systematize and structure,
I study and write
I tune into her thoughts,
and we explore these things together
We exist side by side as this happens,
and our hearts melt into one,
heartbeat at the time
my even heart pace,
deep asleep, calms her

But recently I’ve become aware of something different
as I’ve transitioned into our shared fabric
It’s a shift in tone,
her voice carries a sub-narrative
that I haven’t been informed of
It’s so subtle, and at first I was just convinced
it had to do with me
Was I too cold to participate?

The more I’d started to spend time with her,
the more I’d come to understand
that the zones she traveled through were mnemonic
it was a technology to store memories,
and to access them again

Sometimes I would walk next to her
for a long time
until she’d become aware of my presence
that would give me the benefit of observing her

After she’d welcomed me in,
this was more difficult
as we became one
Sometimes I see signs
of the start of a new season;
a lonesome migratory bird
that’s soon joined by its swarm,
a brief sun ray
that initiates the melting of the frost
that’s settled on all surfaces detectable,
or the freshly green head
of a wood-anemone
soon to pop open
to free its white flower

These moments
are normally passageways
to a different season’s beginning,
these are in usual cases
the events that crack
the surface of the ice open,
resulting in a spider web like pattern
But the temperature stays the same
and the sun stays in its same position,
with its transition to darkness
at 14:22 every day

By this time I’ve already been awake
for more than eight hours,
a full work day for some
It’s unimportant
how I spend these hours,
it really differs,
but all I can tell
is that the cold keeps me
preoccupied

I like being outside
when it’s still daylight
I don’t live
in a barn or anything,
nor do I have my own garden,
but I enjoy the public parks
that are within walking distance
from my flat
The little greens cheer me up
in so many ways
Whenever I feel alone
it does the trick
to just wander around,
pretty cluelessly
Just like a freshly brewed
cup of coffee
it removes that thin visor
from my vision,
that sometimes has made me feel
like an astronaut
on planet earth

After some loops around the park area
I seek out a bench
and close my eyes
to pretend it’s spring
Spring in the city
II: I’d like to know where you go :II

<3 - 2023-12-29 13:36:28 - <3<333333

adolphus50@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:37 -

- 2022-10-06 00:56:37 -

adolphus50@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:35 -

joan14 - 2022-10-06 00:56:35 -

Developer - 2022-10-06 00:56:33 -

Developer - 2022-10-06 00:56:25 -

shannon_boyer@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:09 -

- 2022-10-06 00:56:08 -

shannon_boyer@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:06 -

joan14 - 2022-10-06 00:56:05 -

shannon_boyer@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:03 -

joan14 - 2022-10-06 00:55:57 -

118 Yundt Burg - 2022-10-06 00:51:14 -

- 2022-10-06 00:51:14 -

118 Yundt Burg - 2022-10-06 00:51:13 -

Suite 574 - 2022-10-06 00:51:12 -

118 Yundt Burg - 2022-10-06 00:51:11 -

Suite 574 - 2022-10-06 00:51:03 -

lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:45 -

- 2022-10-06 00:50:44 -

lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:43 -

nico.franecki@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:42 -

nico.franecki@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:40 -

lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:38 -

lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:21 -

- 2022-10-06 00:50:19 -

lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:17 -

baylee_harris@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:15 -

baylee_harris@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:13 -

lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:08 -

E - 2022-04-11 00:22:06 - so beautiful

- 2022-04-11 00:21:49 -

- 2022-04-11 00:20:38 -

*_* - 2022-03-31 12:01:05 - I love it!!