We will be able to find the words that we had hidden behind good manners in order to re-establish the conversation, the words, they were sweet, and the smiles, the sincere moments, which lasted, we will know how to find them.
photo : Morocco
Today. Light. Even in winter one gets tired of the sand, cold like grated stone. We think of others, then we thing of ourselves. We ask ourselves what we think of others, then we wonder what others think of ourselves.
through the window
I can see the days
in the seasonal chaos of
words will be put together which mean nothing but it will looks good you reminded me of the importance of wearing hat and that will be good enough for this strange day
I close my eyes to listen to my roots, the roof over my head must be an illusion that will not hold up, I will take somebody else’s voice to fill the guest card and then lay down, exhausted, in my dark stories.