The Unpoetic Circle

It is quite ironic,

I can't slow down this run,

But this was my object:

To feel.

Here,

Without disturbances,

Lives the sound,

I want to close this cycle,

But is it equilibrium?

We are sliding but all appears so immobile.

And I'm so different from me:

It's so stupid.

Please sketch a portrait to define,

I will offer you our faces,

Incompleteness,

Indefinite resistance.

Here,

Without disturbances,

Lives the sound,

I want to close this cycle,

But is it equilibrium?

We are sliding but all appears so immobile.