there is something so satisfying about bleeding onto white sheets


things are being spoken into existence
the oujia board is pulled out and a storm cuts the lights


vision impairs the senses

keep the mirrors in your eyes

so everything becomes
a trick of light

images don’t need to be representative


i arrive in Sydänmaa, where i am finally faceless 
the skies are looking back i am exposed and unseen

my darling, my dearest
can you only lose something if you are missing it?


i want to get lost again

in the brown between your iris
and pupils,
here
i can be faceless too

but first let me move out of this body that i learned
before i knew that the flesh is not only a tool
but a temple too


the body is here to hold the breath
the song and prayer
the silence
is not silent

the grey morning has one more witness,
a moment is skipped

there is a body of water and the first drops of rain
beat
down


welcome


no you are not welcome, leave


there are too many spots left bare
where trees used to marker histories
dispersed into the wind

a breath that holds the body,
the memory
and the dreaming