Trembling voice

How can the same irrational approval …

which, in the midst of it all,

Incarcerated a strong thread of flawlessness…

just erase the “next minutes”?

… like the present was there, but not alleged,

whereas the past forgotten in a dim-witted future.

How can it not be understood

with a raw and justified raison d’être?

The flower they loved so deeply

turned grey for a second of coma

in the sleeping Neverland.

Was this tree not the one which,

after all, possessed matchless leafs?

One soft wave of make-believe

and they are all unrecognizable yellows

Why does the wind blow in spite of everything?

And how can coldness burn like an open fire?

Sunday, November 16, 2008

1:00:10 AM