Helplessly beautiful | A wave bearing wreckage | Clothes thrown around a room | Nothing a voice can do about this | Making these foolish moments, spaces inside your heart | you don’t notice as they form | don’t need to understand, and | yet, always afterwards, only ever | want to get back to

Uneasy spirits | Boats in a rising swell | tug at their moorings | Horses of nerves | start to run and then halt | uncertainly | it seems | for no reason | Children sleeping | in the clothes their parents bought for them | Butterflies | stirring in cocoons | Bodies | carried in smoothly rolling hearses | Tides | bringing us home | Watching it all | fall apart | yet | make perfect sense | Drawn in | Set out | Sitting quietly as | the high turns | low | Being what you are | observing a piece of paper | lifting and settling | in a draught | Following a calling | Unable | to stop feeling | Seeing how | the sea whorls, how gravity | drags | Belonging to the same | life as the snow | flakes | blown by the wind | past your room | through streetlights and car lights | Being together | Gaining only | more lost control | The spring | goring it all | the bull | torn on the blossom | of its own horn | Touching her face | with the tip of a finger | Not knowing | how it will end | A moment of quietness | in between storms | Unavoidably sensitive | made to be fragile | Made to go on | Thoughtlessly new | Helplessly beautiful

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from the series fleeting pixel (series of 1,000 poems, 2012–2016)

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