shared long whites
Particles as beautiful as cold
Of neutral feelings cut out
Such as cellos and melodies
Sometimes the strong wind blows them away…
And stretch them, stretch them, stretch them, stretch them… stretch them… prolong them… disperse them……
Until the breath is the horizon
And without a port there, they stay, on another bank...
Who dresses in dreams.
There are people for whom life is a zero game,
Every sunrise, a sunset,
At each birth, one death,
Every hello, goodbye,
With each confession, a misunderstanding,
With every spell, a disenchantment.
But with every hand that is touched, new life.
With each disenchantment, a new corner
Every corner, renewed charm
With each suffering, a teaching
With each circuit broken, a friendly port
With every lie, a defense in crystalline drop
In each silence, a melody
And with every pain, love
For each blank sheet, poem
For each star, heat
With every spell, a pityless departure
Clouds are neutral, don't feel,
And so, they are happier than sad,
Because being neutral is being in the middle.