Silica dreams

Today I crushed my hourglass. I crushed it barehanded, against the old wooden table, swallowing my cries of pain when the shards pierced my skin, teaching my blood the scent of daylight. I then took a handful of sand smelling like my past and sieved it slowly above a mirror, trying to see if the … Continue reading

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stream

*she turned around with a shudder and sighed* you want to see the way I see, so be it. take the hourglass and break it, shatter it against the table. now shove your hand in the mound of sand there. let your fingertips dip into the sand as if it were the layers of a … Continue reading

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shapes of sand

my thoughts found roots today in a humble piece of paper, yellowed by the passing of time and graced by the jewelry of your words’ echo: “what is the shape of the sands of time?” you asked, pinning my gaze against the fluid essence of our being. i therefore pondered for a while, only to … Continue reading

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a sandglass of footsteps

the wind scratches the road’s back, while the latter stretches its bones like some asphalt cat overwhelmed by the heat of summer midnights flowing thick and dry all over it. yesterday’s prints still linger along its skin, like a string of beads, worn but still smelling like the beautiful dust of life. silent, the road … Continue reading

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