Persevere in this.

Restless,

the rattling of doubt on the keys as they strike

against the tenacious tips of the fingers.

One rests.

Yes, whether continuing or not.

But it never quite melts away; not completely.

To calm oneself by solidifying, weighing less;

something like becoming a brittle metal,

self-eroding (is that possible?)

and devoting oneself to eroding the blunt rigidity of command and haste,

even if it means

filling the chest with angles,

and the right angles with smoke

(of murderous hypotenuses in the filigreed inner history of an arabesque).

By Eduardo Montull.