In the silence that resonates,
a lament of absences,
the flowers bloom in the shadows,
whispers of a life that fades away.

Eyes searching the horizon
for a trace of hope,
but pain, like a poem,
is sculpted in the words of the day.

The city is a labyrinth of steps
that reflects solitude at every corner -
laughter dissolves in the wind
like falling petals,
disguised in the chaos.

...

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I see one thing,
you see another,
because one thing is always more than itself:
it is itself
plus the relativity of the thing.

It is the mass,
energy,
plus I don’t know how many times the acceleration.
You look,
it has transmuted,
it is already another thing.

To see
is to recreate the world,
is to interact with the beautiful,
is to interact with the ugly,
is to commune with the ...

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