When I blink
I tender the grey clouds
The soft movements,
Gentle the fierce wounds -
Grinding memories
With my bare hands,
Too dense and bleak.
When I walk by
The lights go low,
The leaves turn yellow,
They fly and sink
Swirl and speak
Silent sounds
Of primordial cycles -
Too dense, too bleak.
When I breathe...
Shivers of cold lives,
The echoes of distant deaths,
The murmurs of deepest depths,
Surpressed in lullabies -
A sonet of primordial cycles,
Too dense, too weak.
With a single gesture
I can make the Earth stay still.
Time is a fisty villain
And I like to hear It scream
Seconds, moments, lifetimes -
Under the pressure
Of my fingertips -
Primordial senses
Too dense, too bleak, too weak.