Daily poems

We begin from a beginning, from a chaos of darkness where we had not even once suspected existences, that flimsy matter. In the darkest of nights it would end up roundly and as the east reddens it would begin again.

Several beginnings form in amoeba –like existences and word-shapes of free volition .Their false feet, like lies spoken in the day,wiggle to make our existences daily poems. We write without thinking, do not even write. When we think, our writing stops at our lips.