When space is silence…

Words, sounds, and space…


The refusal

A ghost-face against the silence that keeps playing that song haunts me…

Is the music an effect of the vision? Or does the song draw this ethereal face note by note?

I close my eyes seeking quietness, darkness.

The song acts as a snake biting its own tail.

I break the silence with my voice: Aaaahh!

… No change …

I know the ghost. It is you and it is me. Or you and not me.

I try to forget this colossal memory, again.

The song refuses to end.


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When rain cannot embrace aridity

Rain outside

The room
the air
Brown foliage ready for fire
Dilated eyes tired of nothing

Sharp rhythms and rain outside

A candle dries her visions

Petals thinking in red
Begging for heat

She is not here
The air withers her spirit
Fades her passion

Brown pupils loosing control
Falling into pieces
Like dead flowers touched by the wind

The lightning is far
The noise
                  right here

Rain is not outside