Chaotic Light
I’m an imaginary list
of minutes, hours, years
and from the lava of an unsettled desire
many of my selves scattered
in the negative of time
my lives inside each other
Russian dolls
shared between the oceans
and the ancient landscape of the sky
that no one knows
that it belongs to the loneliness of the other.
I wish I could find a way
to stop from aging
the chaotic light of the poem
and the passerby
who unfurls his sail inside it.
Manolis Aligizakis 