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 Seagulls

The cry of seagulls
Has me longing to return
To the solitude