as I go up and down the stairs,
the rain stops abruptly as if struck by lightning,
the breath of spring deflowers my lungs,
I see two eyes bathing in the outpouring of sounds,
the chirping of birds snatches my mind,
pulls it on a string,
- the thought
sits on the lilac leaves,
I cling to everything that gets in my way,
I feel like then
when I was drowning in the pond at the far end of the village
hanging from a willow branch
at the bottom of the water, I hear your voice,
you were whispering:
"breathe, breathe, move your hands
move your legs,
it will come, it will come "
with the tightness of my heart, I take my head out of the water,
expire water,
for the rest of my life, I stay away from thirst,
at times
I prefer to be a sauerkraut
or dilute like a mercaptan
which passes through its own volume of air,
raising its value to an acceptable limit,
I search,
I give myself time,
I end up in a world of smells,
lichen, moss scent the forest
without losing patience
or weight,
lazy molecules (arouse my envy),
- little magicians on stones,
faithful masters of the forest boulders,
a carpet of green moss
I will be,
without blood in the veins,
without flowers,
today I will be
a moss that absorbs all the moisture from the rain
until I get over my own invisibility.
