Old Skin

Old skin, possibility is
a dotted line. Learn to 
write your name. But
erase it soon lest your
traces be heavy. Open
future is an undeciphered
script, the uncertain has
its trappings. (Sometimes)
it is beautiful.

(24 May 2016)

............................................

Old skin, clouds are a
guest to the summer
night. Flashes of lightening
an interlude to their
love. You a drifting 
passerby. Collect the
fragments in their pauses.
This instant is alive with
the possible.

(23 May 2016)

...............................................

Old skin, murmurs of an
instant are not rumours.
There are clouds passing
nearby. Finality dissolves
(sometimes) when you
stop parting shadows.
Wonder!

(23 May 2016)