I can hear them…
they’ve come to me once more.
all the tunes I have forgotten
“hey, do you want to hear how silence growls?
do you want to dive on waves made of sand
and become small… small,
tiny little stone made of flesh
and with flesh in love
come and walk on me, get high, high,
let us become one cloud
sailing above clouds in the mountains made of pictures
and thoughts and nightmares of all kinds
nothing more than meat.
hey, forget them!
that’s the place we’ll reach.”
And they’re inviting me
as they used to,
part of them again…
not of something, not of anyone;
part of me again.