– blisters –
walking on those streets beautifully lightened,
I forgot I have feet,
my tamed shoes were following the cadence of your voice –
soft but sharp and vertiginous.
at home, freeing my captive heavy feet,
the cold floor makes my reality spinning
unbearably:
this purple bouquet scatters on the ground…
this painful dizziness,
this inertia of going forward.
your shadow stepping over my blue shoes
is counting flowers between us.
your voice, bandages on my wounds –
soft but plain and striking.
– let’s run, my sweet!
let’s run away to the end of the world,
where everlasting flowers are growing.
isn’t love running barefoot through green wild fields?
[photo by karena]