If I had a house, it would have lights, which would also make shade, in the evening on the white walls, and the doors would be dark.
Curl up silently
in a corner of the living room then recover from one's rubble straighten one's pants and shake off the crumbs left on the front realising one's scars in the evening
I went there to see the past, its ornaments, its oh!s and ah!s I saw my soul instead, its darkness in search of light, I saw a path and shadows, and a road that does not stop.
I will weave connexions, trembling threads in the fresh air of the river, traits of light, airin attempts, some nothings or kinds of magnets, or fingers seeking a solar story.
The following symptoms should be monitored:
a) your find the patient lost in his own thoughts in a broken street;
b) the patient suffers from long unexplained silences;
c) the patient shows a disproportionate satisfaction when finding the right word;
All of the above clearly indicate the presence of a poetic syndrome, to be carefully watched !