Brooklyn Boy

 The wind calmed after yesterday's hurricane.

I liked the wind. I liked the unconstrained wind. In the center of it, I found relief.

Each time the sun sets,
shadows begin to overtake the room.
The breeze starts to split into half,
then splits halves into fourths.
It begins to deteriorate.

That moment, sounds start to flow in my head.

From some time ago, it was like this.
I can't remember when.

The shadows of those who take in the brightest light are the darkest.

Today the strong sun attackes me again--
black tears
white smiles
colorless me
 --a world without color.

without wounds it hurts
with wounds it doesn't hurt
wounds that can't be healed
wounds that maybe can be healed
wounds that will be healed

Alone, in a shadowless room, I sit freely.

I hear music in my ears, though I didn't turn it on.

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I turn 22 today.