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.