I wrote you in the back pages
Art. I made you dance.
For a while it made sense.
But I must stay on the first pages
I raise my hand.
Mixed the acids with the bases.
Measured the squares that turned into networks.
I wish it explodes.
Structures. I wish it disintegrates.
Some days, I feel infinite.
Some days, I feel bounded by the ocean,
Recognizing the endless blue,
but not capable of holding it in my mouth
As if thunder are ants refusing to bite you.
Follow the road, two points create a line.
Sadly, I was late, extremely late.
The corals already spawned.
The bee already settled with a flower.
I, on the other hand, confused where I am headed.
Like milk diffusing in a cold brew.
Attempting to fill areas where I haven’t been.
Why does it cost so much to be here?