all starts with a smile

all this silence in the world when

there is no song and the doorman with one-hundred faces and one smile opens the door

I wonder what I will say to him

and

why

there is a feeble stream of heat wiping a lowered sliding window

feels like a heart so alien apart splitting it's strings in roads

to memories so long forgotten, dead for the life of men

or even light

but I am there not by my soul nor eyes, nor shadow of a thought, tho through my dust which drifts in future as in past

tensed in the moment so that I can tell

there is no end

just wind which splits us from the shell

breath in, breath out and bid it farewell -

that is the way of life

the power of the will