still in

on that hammock
i keep on telling myself

"this is temporary
soon things return
to its original smooth
and proper
dimensions"

i do not pray much
but i pray

that life irons out
its own creases

that i soon know how
to live again
just like that smooth skinned
yesterday woman

that the river will recontain
water on its banks

that my mouth shall thirst
for tongues

that my tongue shall keep
some words till dawn

i pray and i pray some more
until

morning breaks again with
light on its hands

there is mug of coffee on the
rail by the window
and its fumes are showing me
how life breathes in space

there is a vine with more leaves
a flower at the end
a tendril still imitating the fingers
of my longingg

everything is alive here
everyone is singing out there

why i do not join them?
why? why in the world will
i say that i do not know how to
live my life everyday?

it is all in the mind
it is all in the mind

decide for now, i tell myself
oh yes, i am still in