home in me

the story is writing itself, with every movement that takes place
when the horse gallops or  a wing gently waves, when the grass sways from
the travelling wind or when the hem of my skirt gets shortened.

i am at home here more than any where before. i am shedding.
why is it one always tells another when the other moves away
you can re invent yourself for i belive it is the opposite it is when
what has already been invented finally appears, it is where one goes
 to finally come home.

un found

sometimes you watch a film that is made to break your heart and it does. but you still seek such films, somehow they leave you feeling unfound, discovered but not claimed. then there is the music that repeats itself and you do not have the heart to turn it off for it is hauntingly beautiful and through it you feel as if you still have a chance