We wash out

We wash out our face in a waterfall
thinking that we’ll be other
who wakes up next morning

But we are all the same 
that morning
and the next
and the next…

When this unhealthy addiction
wasted circle
of waking up being the same ghost
that spokes for us,
will  break?

I no longer know speak about things
I do not know if are things the ones that speak,
or don’t speak.
I lost the line,
and I do not know when I lost it.

I suspect it was
when the sanity of time left me

Now I’m just surprised
with the penetration
of Life
under my palms.

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