Q u i d a m

Art of falling

For another solitude, I let my neighbours pass

by me, I counted til' then until one of them

fell into the loitering maze, here for another

roasted apple, shining bright in the sunny valley.

It was summer when people slept,

It was winter when chilly winter bite hard,

I wonder how it all started, a flesh: flapping

drowning in the abyss, final seconds start to snap.

Decades of voices dawn at me,

Invisible pages, flipping the snapshots of life

Candles, burning in white maze—

Coil in dark patch, a quick blur image before it fades.

Holding only one finger, that smokes around

in a single ship, under the table of noisy drift—

How many times will this road get blocked?

Until the world falls again in a thunderstorm.

— 24th November, 2023