[am]- s

I watch you as you put your head down and fall a sleep. You don’t mind me. I thought I should stay, so I did. I sat down. sitting still on wooden floors while staring at the white walls. Trains rush in and out of the city in a hurry, everybody had somewhere to go to this morning. This is where I’ll stay and be. I watch as your eye shut. I watch that last glimpse of your soul go away. The coffee got cold and the cat got loud. Life tasted different this morning. The beats got stronger. The sun is finally up high in the sky, the curtains won’t stop dancing, the light shines on your face, hair, hands.. This is a shrine of confidence in both our heads. It is a celebration of madness racing out of our systems. You are suddenly dancing too. Your moving is essential. It was [am] a minute ago. You gave me a second from your time. You seem to just give away your time. Knowing what you are isn’t enough for me at this moment. Who you are and what you are made of is what matters. There is an explosion in my mind, heart, and body. This movement is suffocating. I think I’ve reached the breaking point. I call it a day. Only to find more air to take in.

Everything is always justified; life and machines. It didn’t get better, not even in the [pm]s. You won’t wake up for me. It used to be black and white. Everything was moving slowly. I didn’t know better. It felt like nothing could get any colder. But you never woke up, not even when the sun came up. Not even when the light came in. And the curtains kept on dancing and the trains kept on racing towards my still body. There on the floor was a replica of me. Here I am. Awake and waiting for you to rise.


Photo, Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía.


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