robinmarchesi.com

Off to non digital land to try and remember myself.
No posts till I return.
Might I be a caterpillar trying to be a butterfly?

Years spent in dreaming
Events never taking place.
Evening draws curtains
On all these wonderings,
During morning,
For afternoons that became,
Years, spent in dreaming.

Dappled light
Colour calls shadow;
Prolong this idyll of eye
Before mind sweeps it,
Under the carpet.

We rearrange an arrangement
Of primadorial elements, which arranged us,
In the first place.

The space of silence.

One molecule less
And the globe
Is rearranged.