The run over

The run over

I avoid shortcuts to home

To prolong the distance between me and the end of the night

Walking is entertainment that passes time and hosts it

And all the looks that reached my eyes in the daytime,

Sending nothing but void, 

Weigh upon my footsteps

They fall in front of me, so I was forced to run them over between

the soles and the rain’s mud

An effort that was put to create a relationship is run over now under

the shoes

Eyes touched by a chance of familiarity and they consider it little

In the distance the waves are chasing each other

They arrive to the shore as one block

That lost its first qualities

Fixate the body, and call its movement later a miracle

In the distance

I become the sum of my marginal qualities

Tomorrow is no longer as interesting

As the astonishment from yesterday’s silence

(Yesterday: a word which shape is not clear, yet uttered with confidence)

And an eternal exit from the bubble of anxiety happens at a cloudy moment

Something that I can’t endure becomes a ball and disappears into the distance as in the palm of
a magician.