Poesia (29.3)

fearful poems written in lava

.missing us.

in shapeless questions
I miss us.

shall I fight for good?
will I feel hole?
will I feel whole?

in prismatic questions
I miss us.

what happened to touch?
have I felt it indeed?

in gutful questions
I miss us.

will it be enough?
will anything ever be enough?
will I
be enough?

I ask my skin
if it needs much more
than it's given.

it responds with a silent nod.

.unrecognizable femininity.

such as the wind that blows no more than hot air

there's a lack of eager within the feeling no longer felt

how could this be?

'is it time, dearest?'

she asks me gazing through the cards

'no.' 

she says through the mouth.

'is it the body, sweetie?'

she keeps questioning timeful;

'not again.'

she goes beyond the curtains

'it's the fear, is it not, darling?'

she states with unaccurate inflection.

'yes.'

'it's fear'.

.a foundation to unholinesses.

where has excitement gone to?

should I be patient?

is there any feeling

that I owe?

will I ever be certain about me?

will my light ever flash?

.¿where have the smiles i gave away gone to?.