in queretaro: notions 52-54.

notion 52.

there is a void,
which one falls into
to rest,
fall asleep away
from all the noise,
and in this void
sometimes there’s peace.
(buddha hums, “nirvana.”)
but then
there’s a void,
which one sinks into,
and disappears
all alone.
(where are the arms
to hold us?
to save us?)
all alone.





notion 53.

someone please
speak pretty
words to the world.
it gets so lonely.
it gets so lonely,
(and i just want
you to hold me.)





notion 54.

the world is oh so fluffy,
and i need space
from rules,
from norms.

and when and where did this all form?


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