I can just whisk it
the rain away from my mood
but the distortion

I like to sit down
sometimes in the frozen grass
just looking forwards 

My first step sinks in
I touch the next carefully
it took me over.

Ugly outside selves 
to display for all to see
but not to yourself 

I have already 
forgotten colors that hide 
the new and old rust

Close we are drifting
the edges that made us gone
waiting for a spring

You turn or press on 
on what you want or do know
and somewhere a light

Your dark silhouette 
moving away towards me. 
A disillusion? 

In one still moment
before we all move again
we see reflection

Are we not outlines 
a wherein one is empty
till the black lines fade

I imagine that
each stone I still will step on
might just move before 

I love my hammers 
for to hit or to be hit
is not the question