Entry log-in; Slight systems of Minute Observations.
We shall commence:
A draft of something which has yet to see the light
An army of ants trailing to nowhere
Leaves drying, or are they dying?
White tiles I see every morning while I smoke
Dried flowers on the trash bin, they reek of linen and lent
A view of the sky as we go on our way, back home (yes I’m singing the Beatles song)
— or the decadent cement mermaid who guides the travelers
And a ribbon which has once embraced the fortune tree,
now wrapped around your finger.