A patio
Desert
Ten dried flowers watch the sky
Sponges of smoke,
The napes of the neck take on the smell of tobacco
Behind the stained glass window we see passing
Ambitious clouds like wild manes,
And in the house,
Shards of black lace,
Fleeting glimpses,
Corridors full of mischief
The bathroom is quiet
Without desires nor tears
But further on the bed
Pale red
Unmistakable
Hemmed with curves
Lips open
A staggered meadow
Of blueberries crossed
Muddy grounds, split
Gone memories
Futures torn
In rumors spread.
The party gets darker,
A train passes and –
Black.
A mask falls
The guests get tired
The winter is suffocating
The sound of footsteps