Black on a pattern
Forming new and old waves
On woven rules.

A young longing for

imaginary freedom

finding its way out.

 

I float slowly down

then I unexpectedly

have nowhere to go.

 

Falling to the dark

gravity feeling its way in

reaching for my ground.

And moving nowhere

wondering for tomorrow

beside the glass wall.

Water reflects light

reality colors forms

irreversible.

An empty blue chair

a distant view passes by

I slowly decide.

Unearthing a wing

forgotten somewhere beneath

collecting feathers.

I look down to it

the shadow in front of me

trying to catch up.