I love being by myself Away from the expectations of the world Just me and the silence of the room.

… I wanted to tranform into a leaf, And observe, How that handsome eagle Interacted with his eaglets or with his mate; The positions they stayed in their still moments, How they greeted; Did they look each other in the eye?; How they interacted with each other If they had been separated for a long time; And then I wanted to be transformed into a ghost And sit in a room And observe humans; A family, A solitary, A couple; T...

She was oranges, Apricots And strawberries;

In this sad And cruel And lonely reality, A gloomy day. When you look yourself in the mirror these days, Tell me: What do you see?

Oh music! Like falling on a silk bed And feel it caress And cuddle your face.

I take pleasure looking at you You are so beautiful boy You look as if As if As if you were kissed by the sun.

Another moment Another byte It is a breathtaking land So much to see So much to grasp There is beauty all around.

It is been a while I do not see you I do not know what you are doing I hope you are fine But I have this little thought I hope, I hope. Think of me sometimes. Ok?

There is joy In having free souls around People with whom you can connect This is the elixir of life.

You are like the stars I see you are I believe I can touch you I reach You are far.

Talk to me A word from you Lights up a fire On this winter day.

I like my boy In all ways and manners I could go on writing for days But the trait I love more He has got "I won't hurt you" face.

What scares you? Existence; Existence is scary.

I like your imagination I always want to find an excuse To talk to you And when I do I always smile.

A weather vane, swiveled on its spindle, catching a cold breath of tomorrow. It was a wind that carried no sound, only the promise of change. Below, in the hushed valley, the world lay in wait. Only the winds knew how deep the snow would be—a blanket vast enough to quiet the earth, or merely a dusting of the coming dawn. The vane held its rigid vigil, a silent prophet of the chill that seeped into the marrow of the air. I...