Wednesday, 7 August 2019

View from the Tightrope















Relaxed and familiar rhythms rock the air,
It's all fine with the beat .... then the stylus jumped.

A screech; an unbearable scratching.
We wait, longer than we can bare,
But hear only the endless click of rotations.

A boat floats on the ocean,
It flips over.

A beautiful bud begins to open,
It drops to the ground.

We are together.
Then he undressed and dived into the river.

And now we are alone.



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