September 2016

Momentary mystic

I sit in an optician’s chair, tested by the flashing of lights, trying to see more clearly, but it is no use: I remain addicted to the illusion that life is fine as it is finite, filled with stories of…

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In a grey summer dreamworld you wear a coat of many colours but remain invisible until someone touches you, when you radiate that cool, unreachable light, changing everything: hell into heaven, for example, or absence into closeness The yellow bird…

Read: Colours