sometimes.

—I wonder.

sometimes

the wondering takes me to nowhere but the mirroring company I will and shall always have.

sometimes

comprehending things are necessary only when the lights flicker upon everyone's heads;

and in that case, 

sometimes

is not now.

sometimes

begins and ends in a crucial space; others drown me in their comfortable haze
of being uncertain but never not okay.

sometimes

becomes another time I had imagined I would have, but could never predict when.

sometimes

becomes a faulty figure every time the following response is everything that has been choked down through
the secret talks;
some which could not fight against the tender wind: one who, in its solitude, decided not to make me its enemy.

sometimes

is then changing into something harder to touch; and

sometimes

realize.

as if it will come and go as I blink and forget how to count, or think the way everyone would want me to
—if I could only remember—,
that is.

sometimes

—I wonder.
and it becomes another thing I could never answer; but

sometimes

when what comes out were flashes of things that were brighter than the aperture: a repel to

shady mornings when the first water to be poured were not the ones to blend into a tempting brown,

it feels warm.

the sky passes through those nonexistent windows and brings back everything that will reveal what has lately been

the truth.

sometimes

it does happen. and lately, that

sometimes

becomes a longing;

maybe much more than before, maybe lesser but it was me that was finally able to look closer. embrace follows as

sometimes

sees me the way the wind saw me back then; or maybe

I see

sometimes

the way the wind saw me.

and I was glad.

just glad.

sometimes

—I wonder.

how

sometimes

can be every time; and how

sometimes

can be never.

but

sometimes

is

sometimes

and as I often whisper to myself,

for now,

—everything is just fine—.

.

.

.

[written and posted on October 15, 2013]