The Star That Sneezes the World Apart

17th arrives
with no warning,
no prelude,
no gentle clearing of the throat.

It comes as a sneeze,
a sudden, violent expulsion
from the lungs of a star
too ancient to care
about the consequences.

One sharp burst of light,
one cosmic exhalation,
and everything nearby
is scorched into a…Read More

April 15½

Prayer for the Fake Middle of the Month.

Pray…
not to gods,
not to ghosts,
but to the middle
of this faking month,
this sagging spine of April
where the days begin to wobble
under their own weight.

Pray for the midpoint,
the lukewarm center,
the hinge where nothing happens
and everything threatens to.

Because…Read More

April 15th – The Hour of Blocks, Locks, and the Moon That Refuses

April 15th strikes
not like a day
but like an hour:
15th o’clock,
a time that does not exist
and yet insists on happening.

It arrives as a block,
a solid interruption
in the flow of April,
a square of time
that refuses to melt
into the rest of the month.

Then c…Read More

The Infinite Repetition of a Pink‑Clad Madman

April 14th does not progress.
It repeats.
And repeats.
And repeats again.

It is the day caught in its own echo,
a looped corridor of hours
that refuse to move forward,
a calendar glitch
that feels almost intentional.

On this day,
time folds like a sheet of paper
creased too many t…Read More

A Monday of Opposites and Gravitational Longing

13th arrives
with the blunt honesty of a Monday
that refuses to disguise itself.

It is a day built on opposites,
light leaning against shadow,
certainty dissolving into doubt,
the heart pulling forward
while the mind drags its feet.

Everything contradicts everything.
Everything…Read More

12th in Emptiness, Oblivion, and the Breeze That Knows Too Much

April 12th rises
like a hollow bowl.
A day carved out of absence,
light as a rib,
quiet as a room
after everyone has left
but the air still remembers
their names.

This is the day of emptiness
not the cruel kind,
not the collapsing void,
but the soft, spacious…Read More

April 11th — Ladders, Snakes and the Art of Forgetting

April 11th arrives
like a board game spilled across the floor,
ladders leaning toward impossible heights,
snakes coiled in patient spirals,
waiting for the moment
you think you understand the rules.

It is a day of ascents and descents,
of sudden rises
and quiet collapses,
of c…Read More

April 10th — The Night of Running Cats and Star Eyes

April 10th begins at dusk.
It is not a daytime day.
It belongs to the hour
when the sky bruises purple
and the first streetlamp flickers
like a nervous prophet.

This is the night
when all the cats in the neighbourhood
wake up from their daylight disguises
and remember who they t…Read More

April 9th — The Breakthrough of Impossible Realities

April 9th does not arrive.
It erupts.

It tears a seam in the morning,
a thin, shimmering wound
through which light leaks sideways,
as if the day itself
has forgotten how to behave.

This is the day of breakthroughs,
not the gentle kind,
not the kind that whisper
you’re doing fin…Read More

The Old Man at the Window and the Immortal Cats

April 8th arrives
with the hush of a page
that turns itself.

In the big window
the one that frames the world
like a painting too honest to sell
an old man sits,
chewing a piece of old bread
as if time itself
were something he could soften
with patience.

He does not speak.
He never…Read More

The Day of Empty Skulls and Full Time

April 7th rises
not like a dawn
but like a curtain being pulled back
on a stage that has been waiting
for centuries.

It is the day of empty skulls,
not dead,
not forgotten,
just hollowed clean
by the slow, patient erosion
of everything that once mattered
too much.

These skulls are not…Read More

For the Woman I Love and the Men I Adore

The 6th arrives
with a softness I did not authorize.
It walks in barefoot,
carrying the woman I love
in the palm of its hand
so much,
too much,
more than any day
should be allowed to hold.

She stands there,
quiet as a vow,
loud as a heartbeat,
and April 6th bows to her
as if she were the…Read More

April 5th, Ghostships Drift Through the Mind

On the 5th,
the myth of the ghostships returns
adrift,
unhurried,
moving with the slow authority
of things that have forgotten
what it means to have a destination.

They glide across the inner horizon,
full of voids and echoes
from the beginnings of time,
carrying the dust of ancient…Read More

April 4th, the Compass Forgets Its Duty

The 4th takes my north,
reduces my compass
to a mere spasm of air
shivering through the half‑open window
on the left side of the house.

It doesn’t steal direction violently.
No, April 4th is far too elegant for that.
It simply rearranges the wind,
tilts the light,
and suddenly every cer…Read More

When the Bird Returns to Remind Us We’re Still Human

On the 3rd,
we all see a bird coming back home
as if it had been waiting
for April’s foolishness to calm down
before daring to cross our skies again.

It glides in with that effortless arrogance
only birds and very old truths possess,
cutting a clean line through the blu…Read More

On April 2nd, When All Lies Lose Their Nerve

No lie, not even the elegant ones,
survives the arrival of April 2nd.
It comes in quietly,
feverish but polite,
like someone who knocks softly
before rearranging all the furniture in your mind.

Yesterday’s mischief still clings to the air,
smelling faintly of banana peel bravado
and the k…Read More

April Fools, With Fangs

April shows up
yellow as a banana peel left to rot in the sun,
a warning disguised as a joke,
a joke disguised as mercy.

Truth drags itself in after her,
dust‑coated,
half‑asleep,
muttering that honesty is overrated
and timing is everything.

The day is a trapdoor:
you step,
it laughs,
you fall,
it shr…Read More