From the balcony of your eyes, you watch time get lost.
It follows the very end, you know.
A heatless mood outlines struggle;
rare images justify living.
Beside, euphoric deluded wave currents,
survive from joys and paid hymns.
There is a lot of urgencyin everyone: folders with numbers and orders, eyes closed to themselves.
They float, all, busy innocent.
They meet dates,
multiply in the river
that follows many dimensions, indifferent, flow into oblivion.
Feelings lived, emptied.