I sit in a car where everything moves slowly, where every sound I hear, I think about it first.
True presence, true gift.
I see my self like I am in another dimension.
And even when I think about the things that I think,
I think them over again.
I am very diffrent from low.
And I like it.

I, a butterfly.
A lazy one , though.
I, a light.
But not a neon one.
I , an actress.
In my mind only.
I could hear today a waltz as I was waltzing .
One , two , three.
One two , three.
And I, a ballerina.
A laughing one.
A dreamer , an illusionist.
For myself only.
I, a rose
Without petals.
A kisser too,
with painful kisses.
I , not a swan
but the shadow of it.
I , lost.
and found.
Happy, with tears.
but anyway
it all fades...

I hear them all laugh
in front of me,
for this that I am.
Is it possible
that I could be so unsure of myself?
Though I am not really there,
I see everything.
Immersed in profound water ,
I feel everything.
And I can't change nothing.
I wait someone to get me out of the water
telling me:
"It was just a bad dream,"-
but who ever comes ,enjoys my sorrow
and joins the crowd
And than I see ,
a girl stare at me.
She looks exactly as me .
Staring she smiles with purity
and says to me:
"Listen.
Listen to the birds sing.
Its indeed a beautiful morning. "
At that very moment I feel
instead of my heart , I have ice.
Ice that is only kept frozen by staying in that water.
And I can do nothing.