Not glow, or shine
Overcast, boring
Im knitting the storm outside
and the laces with the snow make a composition
taking patterns, randomly, not having a clue.
But all this effort is taking US where,
Where, the time and I, pretend theres a treasure hide in our labor
only for the colors, the hallucinating shapes,
breed from the sadness
and tie around loops until all conscious no longer exists
All notion disappear in a twinkle, all but the thread and the stubborn stitches
they all know where are going
Inhumane composition, emotional flow drived away
Its about my dull heart, my dull soul
glowing on something else than me.
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