the shade of old spectacles -the colour of wheatfields II- (full story)

a land of trivial stories   Through a dirty window I see a blurred city Each light and shadow Tells a trivial story. And I, wearing a brown sweater Stains in my shower From when I washed the dirt of my old life, I contemplate outside that window Almost ignoring the reflection Of my silhouetteContinue reading “the shade of old spectacles -the colour of wheatfields II- (full story)”

I’ll be whole again

From “The shade of old spectacles” I am a spirit I can be nothing more and nothing less So be it.   They’re my weapons against life But they will be my undoing If I don’t discard them soon They helped me when my mother was soaked in juice and her brain was all fluffyContinue reading “I’ll be whole again”


From “The shade of old spectacles” Frozen You, little prince Standing with thirst in your throat And the witch Your own reflection Clear and still in what’s left of the river. It is time to say goodbye Even if she will never die. It is time to let things be To let her grow ToContinue reading “Healing”

This one is bright

From “The shade of old spectacles” Fresh paint on the walls Sometimes still gives a way for the colours underneath To be hit by sunlight.   Once upon a time, a child with none of those walls Had to pile up pieces of himself To make a shell. Leaving a tiny window whose glass polarizedContinue reading “This one is bright”