Infinite stories written
on the inside of the eyelids –
Giant cinema screens.
Hollywood magic.
Private. Keep out!
With every rhythmical
of eyes –
A closure to one world
is a beautiful opening
of another.
Sequential images of a double life
abruptly disturbed
by reality .
Tremulous waiting of the seconds of waterfall
between one blinking
and another.
Life trapped in the blinks.

The Last of Our Kind


Open the eyes in the morning.A fresh new start.Reality hits hard in the stomach. The regular morning punch.Strong as morning coffee. Just as hard, just as necessary. The camera of the eyes looks around, scanning items, recording colors and sounds attacking: a car honking,birds awakening,a heartbeat. Feet moving in the jelly of time as minutes pass by. The sun is up.And we are awake. Again.

“…Time to rise.It’s a whole new world.And we’re facing the fire.Not afraid of our own ghosts. Not afraid to be brave  though.The last of our kind.”