Water and masses on my palm, 

and I see water flowing out of there…

it has no spine, 

but the mass is still there…with a rumble, 

kinetic energy of my anatomy. 

Blizzards outside my window pane, 

but still people walking and passing with parachutes…

Many of them will never see each other again…

The passing goodbyes. 

Waters…you can give water the shape of a glass, the shape of a greasy throat…

but it’s essence is in flow…the attainment of constant ramblings. 

Don’t ask people how they are by stoping them from their moisture courses…

make eyes with them in that beautiful motion…

and have your winged goodbyes.

…………………………………………………………………

Photograph: Google.