My eyes roll to my right,

and the red danger sign

flashes under the sun.

And on left, there is nothing

but a green floral pillow case

and four more stares.

On the back of my head

I still feel the pain of the

empty bottles and the

words that I never remember.

I smell detoxification.

In my very front, I am heading to

the lightness of my destiny.

In my ears,

“I still do”.

S

Something inside them is

falling to pieces. Big smiles are failing like flakes;

they hide behind the blue bricks.

Storytellers reveal the toxic waste,

and Sylvia sings “the night dances”.

“A smile fell in the grass. Irretrievable!”,

she once said.

The world still moves in beats

without the lost boys and

last autumn moments.

Even ours.

S

Far from the “closer” days,

way beyond the leaves,

pale clouds are chanting

loud with aggression.

She closed her eyes to

what’s called “yesterday”.

Black and white grapes,

a bar of music are all she desires.

She hated the light.

And rain?

Never.

S