I had had inklings before, but now things became serious in earnest. The roots were pulled out by the roots. The end came to an end in the end. Here was now here and now. It was the eternal return returning and returning. And returning. It wasn't funny any more, what was funny was no longer funny, any longer. This is how it can feel when it's like this, you said, just like that, as though we were to have it like this. I needed to start again and start again and start again and start. Just start.

When you run inside me

what do you see

I really wonder

what you see

when you run inside me

how do we find ourselves

here

here we find ourselves

how

how do I mean

here

here I am always

true

The cars chase like fish at play

across the bridges that never fall

in the silence that never has room,

until it has all the room.

I needed practice, so I wrote.

A line like the one above.

Or like this one.

It's the only way, I thought.

Just to write.

Almost anything.

Like claiming that horses chew the cud.

Or ending a text without meaning,

halfway through a sen...

This can't be the meaning.
Could this be the meaning?
No, but what about this one?
We can't carry on like this.
We have to put a full stop.
Settle on a sentence.
Any sentence.
Good enough.
Just put a full stop.
Do it.
Settle on a meaning and move on.
But how to stop.
When you've never learnt how.
Only learnt to keep going keep going.
And now the meaning is far behind.
Far away from us.
Further and further and further.
With every line and year.

I shed I
and wished for a long convalescence
so I ought not to be used in the meantime
I needed to walk in circles around I
so I could be finished in peace and quiet
but I wanted to run so I ran

Reality flows in my direction
so I can take it in advance,
you imagine, when you think for me.
Since I merely flow without
reality or anything to anchor me,
like a newborn day, day after day.
One day even time runs out,
had I perhaps thought of that,
not just mine and yours, that is, but time's time.
That is what you mean,
when you say what you say,
and tell what you tell,
I remember in arrears through a text
that wasn't there a moment ago.

The years go by
and I

Here was time, and here and here,

and here.

Here and here.

And here.

Here too.

Here and here.

Unbearable.