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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2007-10-11 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
I use words for almost anything.
They are usually my allies in whatever I need to do or say. This time they are here with me and I listen to the silence they produce in my head. I am trying to pick the right ones but they are playing hide and seek with me, with my reactions, with my desire to share things with you. I have never been so alone with my words before. I have never felt them so distant, so strange and cautious. They are snowflakes melting in my hand, I sense their liquid, cold touch and the humid trace they leave in my hand and then…nothing, just the sensation of coolness a soft breeze makes me feel when blowing them dry. Is there anything you can perceive from my shouting silence? I wish I could tell you in words my heart, but since words would not come now…maybe later then, when the sun rises again, when the dawn of a new day will smile to me… Again …
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