(1.)

this house
                  is
                      an
                           eggshell

         sheltering creatures
                                      of
                                         sleep

you may hear
                      laughter
call you
        to the edges
           of their dreams

you may
              join them

you may
              enter

with your shoes on

you may enter
                       with your
                                     grief
                                             intact

and
should it be your wish

you
    will
        never
            have
                   to
                      leave
                           again.

(2.)

sometimes

we leave the laundry out

for
       the
              rain
                       to
                             inhabit

it is such a              strange
                        and
                               weightless sight

all those         untethered reflections

          they steal us

          and portray us

           in liberties

           that we could never match.

(3.)

if snails are the tongues
by which God tastes the earth

I wonder if Lot
is a vengeant lover

I wonder if he’d blame him.

(4.)

your breath
shipwrecked
upon my neck

how impossible
the next moment
seems now

as you
trace your name
in goosebumps
down my shoulder
and my chest

letting your fingertip linger
                                                   right there
at the origin
of all my involuntary apathy
of all that pressure

saying:

“this,
this is where I’ll stand guard,
this is where I’ll meet you again
when all the lights in heaven dim.”

(5.)

and
                  beyond

                                     the death of time

we shall all be one

we shall all
be born again

from

        pet
              ri
                  chor.