Who
could be absent?

Everyone
could be absent!

We are shadows
in each other's peripheries

voices in a sea of people

stories we tell

agreements we break

marriages we enter

keys we touch

sacraments we present

depictions we inflict

We are a mishmash of local contexts
drifting in the wind,
driven by the crisis of comradeship
and the randomness of probability

I have no reason
to believe a single word I utter

Words are sounds, pressure changes
in the atmosphere,
which – in brains – create electric impulses
entrusted with ”meaning”, ”significance”,
fading in a simple migraine aura;
totally lost in a major stroke

Brains are like termite mounds
on the savanna,
abandoned wasp nests in dusty barns
or castle silhouettes in medieval tales

I place no, or little
trust in myself