Can’t look at loneliness from the view
of the bridges that you have burned,
but you can watch the flow of ashes
that flick from your fingers
to reveal a brand new route

For no sloth or indolence have ever
given breath to nothing worth a mention (?)
There will be no answer at the bottom of a glass
but no one can blame numbness
for her pretentious solidarity

Don’t have to fight procrastination
it’s just the fate of creativity,
though nothing is original
but something no one noticed before
for relevance swings according to the last whiff you caught

It’s not that I don’t trust you … or me, let’s be clear
but the truth has four dimensions:
the width, the length, the depth and it’s shadow
So, it’s not the truth if it doesn’t have a shadow?
Don’t ask me, ask the shadow, I’m just a
                                                                                   passer-by

Foto: Green frog: Darwin ’08