Friday, 14 November 2014


The eyes through which the house has been observing them. Nothing scapes the sharp gaze of stones that have lived for centuries.
She promises early awakenings
                                   reflections of light / of thought announcing storm
                                               a space for each one of them and for all at once.

Suspended in the air stay the hands, the feet and the flour. Each one a river; brave and unstoppable. Can you hear them laughing?

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