In place

alright my dear, im bidding you a good bye. it rains here all the time, but its tough to see. the house speaks too loud, I sleep in its calm. it grows silent, and the day takes you.

we move in peace, you walk. thinking is a lot of thought, or then none at all. in small short words they converse, against the daylight of night.

nothing can kill more than the silence, your words are speechless. you are, right here, right now, in a single breathing.

breathe in, breathe ... .

:

u build the points as connections,
build the wall as its place.
the wall gets defined elsewhere too,
this time functioning as a trace.
it functions where the history belongs,
so it illustrates its point,
tells you where not to be at all.

but as all new histories keep clashing on and on,
they give you like a reading,
try to continue what is going on.
since everything around wants to stand still,
you move the present around,
make the insertion a mill.

it keeps repeating its order and form,
moves from place to place,
but never does move on.
as the insert is a constant,
as it moves from place to place,
kinetic becomes its meeting,
each time you see its face.

it replaces the presence with more entries than itself,
misplaces the absence with the casting of the dead,
and disregards the stopping points of a memory inset.