​When silver clouds slither across the sky like eels,

my eyes meet their own reflection through the train window.

I watch and they watch back...

Slowly, the image fades, replaced by the horizon beyond the blue of my eyes,

 

and once again, the untamed thoughts return.

 

If I could take off my skin, I would.

I would take it off and let the river somewhere carry it away, far away.

The chaotic collection of atoms left of me – scattered and uneven – I would dissolve even further

I would merge with the sky, the stars, the earth, the swamps, the forests, the wind…

I would return to the beginning, to where I belong.

To the place where human feet have yet not stepped.

To the place where the noise of this pathetic civilization does not reach.

To the place where destruction is not the fundamental principle.

To the place where there is birth, creation, fertilization...

 

Kindness.

 

I do not feel like I am a part of any of this.

Every day, my roots, deeply planted in the ground, are forced to be torn out and take a step forward.

My eyes are forced to open, my mouth is forced to smile.

Yet my life passes in a sleepless dream.

I walk through the streets, but I do not see them.

I am only half here and even that half is too much.

I dream of a cloudy day, infused with the scent of rain,

When I can enter the forest, lie on the ground, feel the damp earth against my skin, let the moss wrap its arms around me and swallow me whole.

 

Make me part of its organic essence and burst me into the air filled with music.