in queretaro: notions 42-43.

notion 42.

so islands, we have fallen into
till self deserts the selves
of all the things we are
till we just all become aliens.
but it’s ok.
i won’t burst your bubble.
and like balloons float,
it’s ok.
don’t be afraid
of what you really are.





notion 43.

raised up like walls,
and innocence
has lost its place,
and it’s started
to hurt to dream.
hard to take
things so seriously.
are people
ever going to
and the world
we’ve dreamed of
might never become
if we don’t
have time enough
to speak
or love anybody.
slowly dying
and innocence
has lost its place.


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