The, red hands, of Lady Macbeth, are her’s.

He did not want his hands to be red, but his beloved “Ma-damme” insisted.

He did not want to be the foreseen of the three witches; his wife insisted he would.

He was a heart that could’ve been manipulated; Lady Macbeth did that with excellence,

Demoozi returned to his sunlight.

Breeze had slipped back into this bed sheets

The cats kept roaming, surviving,

Limpy, looked at all, at the serenity, and limped away.

Tigris, somehow, saw all of that; her eyes had a spot of a tear, but, but… continued what she doing.





Or should I say the search for Breeze.





Or, is it? Intimacy…Belonging.

Words and letters that we try fill our hearts with.

We know that the heart is only a pump. But that does not really explain why we feel the hollowness, there; right there; at the left end of the sternum where the heart is.

There should be wisdom behind it;

Liver, I can understand.

Someone ate the liver of their enemy thinking that was the site of the soul.

None ate the heart.

Faro’s mummies retained their hearts.

The Twareg protected their throats.

Soldiers protect their lungs.

Medieval west European kings protected their penis.

Nordics their ears.

I protect none.

Breeze thinks that I am a selfish lump of flesh.

I respect him enough to let him think so.

And, I will continue to make him think that I am a lump.

I am yearning to go back to the Sun.

But I shall wait.

Just for him, and them



The Morning after 

Breeze woke up, the morning after.

Right as the pink, orange, red, sunray had pampered his left eyelid.

Every piece of his body musculature was aching.

The smell of Salmon -The one[s] he had tried to bring along from the sea- was all over the place-.

Someone had placed a plate full of Onions, Rocca, and Jade next to his bed.

Of course, those where stylishly covered by a handkerchief; initialed N.; or was it an R.

He could not tell.

A big lumpy mass of brown flesh was lying on the floor next to his mattress.

Not exactly next, but, one foot-level, below.

Was it a jackal or…? “Oh my God” it was Demoozi, or his remnants?

Breeze loved Demoozi, he was his childhood friend, felt protected when he was around.

But last night reading Gilgamesh was far more important.

Only Nao and Raheema knew better.

Those entities that he had thought were taken for granted; were the only ones to consider!

Breeze stayed on his the bed.

Was it, mid morning, afternoon, evening, or whenever; who care’s?

Times and places do not change emotions.

“If I am not between your Deltoids, Pectorals or your small hand muscles, I do not, then, give a damn for any other detail.”

“I loved you, we all in the city love you, and continue to do so. Even a little more, more than what you can withstand, more than what you could think, or have thought.”

“If you do not comprehend how much love we have lacked previously, and predicted we might continue to lack, then it could have been the problem that I had not explained myself clearly. Meanwhile, all, those emotions, we had tried to place right into your Jugulars, failed to reach your cortex.”

But your neck, for you, was too precious to yield to us.

“I want to write more but I just can’t.”

The shock had overwhelmed me.



Pink, Orange and Red


It turned out to be gray, blackish asphalt grey, rather, absurdly grey.

I thought righteousness should and would always prevail.

I was called selfish, I reacted violently, but deep inside I thought I might have been.

I was treated, or rather abused, “love”less’ly; and I was made to believe, or rather manipulated to believe that was my fault.

I am glad I was able to see through the broken tainted glass.

But, I am sad.



Zoe… dearest

I had it with you up to the tip of my nose, may be even beyond.

My matrix could not take in anymore; “none”, ANY- more. You were very successful in making me want to cut all off, and continued not to comprehend, at all.

You knew, or if you did not, that, made it even worse.

I was walking through a field of broken glass blent in with glowing coal.

I was amidst a situation where any slight toe tip over could have put me a-blast; you did not at the least pretend unawareness, you insisted on claiming being aware, and continued your punishment.

I had told you, almost begged you, to help me through that transition into Calamity. But you chose to ignore that, and ignored that I might have been not as solid as you thought; I could, and had the right to, liquefy, even vaporize.

You chose to continue to be your usual self.

I had acquired bruises, my feet bled; yet, neither you, nor anyone else, thought that ‘that’ was possible, I was supposed to be “The Un-touchable”.

For me untouchable felt more like being dirty rather being divine; more like being a leper.

I had reached the border, at the exact same moment, which, by the way, was your birthday, and the exact same moment that you had me think you had cherished my remembrance.

At that exact, same, moment; me crossing the border; you, so manipulatively decided to tell me that I had been all along: Selfish.

‘Selfish’. Bold, discrete and absolute.

A song:

” Ill be lying if I say I still love you.

I’ll be lying if I say I can forget you.

I’ll be lying if I say I can ever forgive you.

But I continue to ask of you;

To choose me a shore, where I can break upon”

Yes, I did switch all off. I had previously switched my life off for all else to keep going, but I was even denied that.

It seemed that I had to be a catalyst for all else’s wanting; of course, mine, were if not diabolic, secondary.

I chose to disconnect, I had shut all. Couldn’t but.

At that exact second, you told me that I had been inconsiderate and selfish.

You chose that precise moment when my right foot was in Calamity and my left was still outside,

Well, I could not have said anything but that you had excelled in choosing the moment.

You knew what I was passing through; with myself, work, you, wealth, health, relocations…Etc,

I could have given you the benefit of doubt if you had spoken at any other time.

Any other time where I was practically begging for a hug from you, a word of affection, acknowledgement, a heartbeat, a tight, a really tight hug, a simple expression “I understand”.

Now, after you had exhausted me, you reminded me of dropping the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, as soon as the bomb got ready, even-though, the war was already over and done with.

Too bad. I was a human, and a tough one, even tougher than Japan. Your maneuvers were and would continue to be futile.

I could have responded in a manner that would have been offensive, defensive, apprehensive, inconsiderate or socially inept, or I could have even complied with your manipulative pressures.


I chose to disappear.

I ordered my left foot to move on, along with the right, into the Calamity city,

I knew, then, that you were not God and could not judge by intents, but by outcomes. Those were your choices; my only choice was to continue to act by intent.

You called, did call, after I had joint both feet into disappearance, into Calamity.

I could not go back.

Sorry, to say that, but your recklessness, my beloved Zoe, along with everything else was just too much.

I was a hard bee wax that would very willingly had tilted between your shoulders, like a daffodil, but you refused once, and continued to refuse, you wanted me to continue to be hard;

I refused to break; I melted, but sadly, not between your shoulders.

You, I have to admit, were considerate enough to call me back up and apologize.

But I had been already in the city. I was not sure whether I had no choice or did actually choose to keep walking, so I did.
“Not”, yours,”Anymore”



Demoozi, awakening

Demoozi was awakened by his butterflies.

He felt that the barks which were growsing on him were, despite being flourishing,  were sending him mixed messages.

Tigris will come back if she chooses to.

Raheema will be awaiting an advice.

Breeze is desperate for  help.

And  Hulm, is just a child and someone has to be there for him.

So, Demoozi, stood up.

Kissed the butterflies and went in into the first floor of the calamity building.

Limpy limped happily behind him; neaw-ing to Nao: I told you.