Aava

Thoughts are twisting
our encounters and lining them
with a silk string

when I see day bending into night
a touch arrives through time
perhaps just a memory
but I feel it brushing it's fingertips
at the edges of my heart
and for a moment I feel

like a concrete brick flying through glass
heavy and like the world is in my hands

in memories we live the same
stagnant and ever escalating