the color of the sea reminded me of your eyes, green, on the iron bars, in the vertigo of the air, the impatience of the hands, clinging, that's for sure, to the twigs of history, near the coast. That was in the evening.
To have a feast at arm's length, right there in front of you, the rich colors, the promise of flavors, then raising your eyes and seeing the sword of Damocles. You only have to reach out, but you withdraw your hand, you prefer hunger.
For a long time I wished life to be as well organised as the directions found on this wall (but it does not work that way).
Seeking every day, in every second, the perfection of the world (one can find it, one day at a time)
I never doubted the need for following directions in every shape or form going from 49 to 51 but never asking yourself why number 50 is on the other side (this is how we humans live)