Tuesday, May 31, 2016


"...Tonight the light at my feet
 flows on the grass in liquid silver waves
soft mists and crawling fog
     and the sea somewhere in the distance
 I count a few stars trapped between my fingers
as the moon hides wrapped inside a veil of clouds
    It is not clear to me, the colored glass sorrow
 that  drips shaped in  prisms... 
Here under this alien sky 
away from everything that I am,
into this night, I only want to dream of roses

Seagulls cry flying by. 
I can hear the trees whispering.
I can almost hear the distant voices of dead feelings 
or withering memories.
"This", i whisper to myself, "is a moment of truth".

All thoughts trapped into this deafening silence
 slowly spin around endlessly 
   like an ancient nebula 
Am I the universe looking at itself?
Do I  exist only inside the eyes of those who love me?...

My soul curls  naked under the old oak tree outside the window
hidden in a dream, she sleeps tired
              waiting for the rain
                 to gently wash away the moon dust..." 

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