Today I will smash the old computer and count the air between us
Today I will smash the old computer and count the air between us,
I will burn the books for warmth, letting the ashes paint my glasses with memories,
and I will uproot the withered plant, sowing its seeds in the plastic flower,
a monument of memory without growth, an altar of silent stagnation.
I will walk the crowded road, speaking only to silence,
without exchanging a word with passing faces,
for the rules are heavy, and my silence, an unmovable mountain,
under the midday sun, I will seek my lost shadow,
trying to measure my height in absence, a phantom of light.
I will armor the poor, placing them in a ring,
rejoicing in the bloodied glory, a bath of triumph without splendor,
and I will be acutely lucid, proud of my diverted mind,
a mind that dances on the edge of reality, laughing at conventions.
In this lost horizon of thought, I find my balance,
in a world where absence becomes presence, and silence, a song without sound,
for in every absurd gesture, a new understanding is born,
and in every silent step, a world opens, full of magic and melancholy.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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