I think it is Art when we cease to exist
under the pretext of expectancy
and begin to breathe with our eyes
hands and feet.

It must be the depths in my sinking
that erases the need to be in control
or the casual stroll by the sidewalk
of a busy street where people are
just faces, impersonal, unattached
to my sense of feeling.

It must be Art
not to belong anywhere
or to anyone
preserved in anonymous memories,

To rise and set in the colorful shades of your
subtle intimacies, my mystic muse
characteristic of such silent dreams

An Art
to let go
and just be.


2 responses to “Art

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: