Flat surfaces fool you
No marks
Cool and uncomplicated-looking things
Not one visible crack
Not a single, faint tremor

Ancient earthquakes

There are no fingerprints here
No traces of clenched fists
Yelled-out voices
Never transcribed
Pristine vastness of white that fools you

Yes... memories are sly creatures.

How Long Has It Been?

Too long... but time is relative here.

Sensation of tremors in my arms
My hands feel like two phantoms
My elbows absent
My shoulders floating somewhere else

And I only feel my back pressed against the wall

Locks of hair- like twisted shoelaces
Form patterns on my scalp
The companions of idle fingertips
Weaving idleness into forms of creations

Six years of silence in a six-minute full circle.