It’s all ambiguous.

All particles vibrate.

I have no legs so I fly non-stop.

Stones remember all that lost

because they are the lost of the land

Would stream comes into your dream?

Or it is the mystical fog in the forest

that you are within and searching for

Losing=remembering

Losing≠remembering

The lost are glamorize by remembering 

It’s all virtual

Stones lie to me all the time 

Telling fairy-tells all the time

which I preciously protect with all my strength 

trying to protect it from falling from the high sky

I am a nurser

I am a homeless pilot

I am a rich collector

It is becoming too heavy

the fabric is curving sinking gravitating  

STIR IT UP

DO NOT STOP

for you would be remembering 

this is not dream

when you were in the river

contemplating your afterlife or your former one

Do you feel the inhale and exhale?

Do you feel the change?