words, poetic thought by George-B (©Always)
I opened the drawer of words
And picked, mixed,
at random
with hungry hands … words
slippery
heavy
hot
lightning
wet
salt
bitter
blue
black
gray …
randomly
most leaked
through my fingers, like the fine sands
from the beaches of Mamaia …
I sat those words that did not flee
And I built a house of words
And I used that evening armature moonless night
And I put the as firmament to watch over
Being very tired after so much work
I slept in the house of words
with the firmament watching over…
euzicasa 