Impossible flights

May 23, 2012 0 Comments

"Still life with flowers (cut), fruits (rotting) and a dove (mangled, still and not alive)"

"Grey on grey"

Grey on grey,
he breathes,
a whisper,
an answer lost in the winds.

She puffs,
why?

"Why"?
This word tastes strange,
like the colour of white gone bad
or the touch of solid clouds.
Why "why"?

What "why"?

Just reading this brings you a few seconds closer to retirement.

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