The earth's smell fills his nose,
Takes his breath away,
Makes him think of Tuesday night,
A day he felt desperate to connect with people.
Nothing could be as frightening
As interacting with people,
A perfect day becomes miserable
When you stand near judging people.
He tried to write a single world on paper,
Something about love and compassion,
Something about things he did not have anymore,
Something about not comparing himself to strangers,
Something about buying bread for tomorrow.
He felt a lot more stranger than he did yesterday,
A day frozen in time.
True enough,
He studies his breath with precision,
He realizes how his breath sounds like.
The sound of a breath, his mind agreed,
Soothing and quick vanishing air
That comes and goes
Without warning, move along,
Thunder roars in the skies,
That's a fact.
Working against time,
His mind studies the beauty of his breath,
Meaningless chatter to occupy the mind.
It's a matter of feeling uneasy
About the size of a town,
A place where one breath collides with another
Without a reason.
One breath, two gees in eggs,
Three people who live within brick walls
Four sweet fennels make him queasy,
Five years it took for him to be found,
Six months he stood in a leaky boat,
Seven are the words of his name,
Fratley, a man made of failure.
Breathing on a cold window pane
In which he draws a shape with his fingers,
The shape of a heart in agony,
"Such a beautiful shape", he thought.
His mind studies the beauty of her body,
Her body covered in pale clouded yellows,
A picture of lady Dynamine
And her young sister Melonella,
A pair of Blue Morpho eyes,
And he was a plain tiger on bed
Watching a Great Spangled Fritillary
Dancing upon a yellow corn field.
He noticed something sad about the view,
No water, no birds, ruins of another country,
Visions of what could be real and what could be not,
Then, all of sudden, he forgot.
"Sadness can be seductive", he mumbles,
As he cried a thousand tears like a weeping willow.