09 May 2014
I wonder how the flowers bloom
at where I have no other choice
but to dispose of my ashes
the speed of time in the span
of which I drift
across thoughts
and sometimes time
the end of a night
where I lose all that's in my head
the russle of the trees
the time you made me promise
never to light up again
the way I drown in the caresses
of the sheets
the gentle bird songs
before the creeping of sunlight
if I may say a word
it would be silent
as nothing would make sense
if words were created
the choice between an eternal salvation
and a temporal escape
both seem probable and desirable
but one is a circle that excludes the other
and one is a thought that would be forgotten
never realised and maybe never remembered
with the snail on the windowsill that makes it way slowly into the room
I carefully remove
so I can shut myself from the wind
and the cool of a distant night
which I may revisit perhaps
and perhaps not
D woke up at 5/09/2014 10:47:00 AM [comment]
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