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dive me to the moon

those photos have a date. they have a place too. a place where nothing moves.

nothing except words.

words move quicker than ever before

especially those words you share.

it doesn’t matter how. you can speak them out loud or you can write them down, share them on social media. they leave traces everywhere.

but also, there are the words you keep for yourself. not locked in a box, no. they move too. they dance around in your chest, or make noise in your head.

maybe there is a parrot inside of you. he speaks and only you can hear.

on the edge of a new era, I want to remain on the frequency that covid imposed for a little bit longer. you can see the deapth if the water is calm.

the words in the chest can be heard clearly if you silence your head. the whispering words in the chest.

My son told me the other day “maybe the crabs at the bottom of the sea, look at the fish who swim above them and think that they are flying.”

Yes, maybe,I thought, but I said nothing.

Instead I started singinging "dive me to the moon and let me play among the starfish"

I suppose it wasn't me it was the parrot.

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