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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