Unbearable will to start and end As if I could ever reach that feeling of getting done As if I could ever escape the feeling of missing something Did I forget to close the door? Did I forget to turn off the lights? Or the stove? Rolling waves, years that go by, wishing we could escape from their passing by But the vapour of the clouds always comes back to the forms of the earth, and you cry as if they could cry wishing to stay, wishing to escape from the cycle of life. And the clocks are rolling in…
In the distance, cars get lost in the curve, of the only street of this village.
People pass stepping puddles and passing clouds leave puddles on their way.
Words on the air pass being dragged by mouths while the gulls cut them with their winged passing.
Another day of summer passes.