Love!
I see what I see
for I was made to be this.
9th floor, crumbled, shattered,
cut of off my own skin,
pale
orange,
1.66.
drugged at times,
at times
weak.
a symphony of tragic moments,
a symphony...
the highest place I've ever visited...
was this.
not the altitude,
the height,
the deafness in my ears
but the elevation,
the possibility of tasting,
touching,
pretending at claiming...
in the sincerity of fake muses,
fake understandings,
fake philosophies that exist only because language allows them to.
dictionaries
for which you will need
dictionaries
to be understood;
not necessarily a brain,
just information upon information upon information upon information...
and memory space to hold onto them.
I've seen from the window
where my being resides
and saw nothing;
just silhouettes, shadows, mirages...
a trick or two.
but never a thing that seemed just as it seemed;
nothing that made sense for more than a glimpse
of what a human being would call a lifetime...
then I was tricked, again!
just as it happened time and time before
and time and time
before that...
but I happen to love magic shows,
lights,
pretendings,
and the dreams where we're immortal.
The photo is courtesy of Kushtrim Thaqi.