finding my balance between day and night flexibility and stiffness the movement of water and the reassurance of wood moving forward like on a wire not looking ahead to avoid vertigo *put online in April 2021, edited in 202
I'll wrap my wounds in the wadding of the sky, tell me, when will you come back? the horizon of vertigo, the balance of time, I will anchor myself in the sand of the beach.
finding my balance between day and night flexibility and stiffness the movement of water and the reassurance of the wood move forward like on a wire without looking ahead to avoid vertigo
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.
the vertigo of colors the spirit of contradiction, a strange pleasure, trembling with anguish, I resume my journey, then I go back, to the scene of the crime. That was long ago.