sabato 12 gennaio 2013

Camera 610 - Or think I do.



Dubai, January 7th 2013.


It is a windy sweet January night. I cannot sleep and I breathe slowly. I cannot open the glass window wall, I can just look thru out. The room is confortable. I look at the glass wall and i see reflection of my mind. Your eyes. You look at me and start to tell that you were convinced you had met me before in another words. You say: “I knocked on the door of your room, it was empty, but he smelt of you. I looked shy and curious I left my shoes at the entrance and entered. I left scroll the eyes and listened to your words that filled the absence but also the essence. I seem to have invaded your space, uninvited. I go back to the door and shut behind me, but I know I'll be back.” I hear your words in the air from the 14th floor to the deep desert. Without a destination. Where you end to talk i start to hear. May I understand your words? It is possible. But I am a man, I am only a man.  But that depends on what it is that I understand. Or think I do.

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