I pass by cafés and shops
with eyes as wide as narrow boulevards
I feel it, certain ideas consume the oxygen of mind
I pass by myself, lose track of routes or hyperbolic sensations
poetry drips down from this quiet space where
splendid contradictions resist the temptation
to capitalize on exclusion, where fullness and emptiness
talk to one another as mimes do
for a change, wide boulevards pass through my narrow eyes
imagination plays its alchemy on my mind like a sugar spike
I rest on an origami isle - your smile