Christmas

Gift.

Solitary On Solar Length

'' The ocean says no ''.

I then spend all those moments alone,

inside the city's womb although i live in its chink

like an encircle animal…

but it doesn't matter anymore,

i've became every places, i've became

this everywhere.

A solitary and solar lenght, I redefine

myself on the metallic structures,

i close my eyes…

I haven't seen the day nor the people of

the sun for so long.

The moon is the only one blossoming again.

The night as a strange taste,

silence is heavy but friendly.

I am not there anymore, am gone,

they tell me.

I can't recall the sound of my voice,

the words, the words, the words…

They strikes locked in.

My mind is like this room

there is strange noises at night.

Picture: Ralph Eugene Meatyard

Vintage Existentialism