I reach my hand,
Over the horizon, I see nothing,
Straight in the air, it stays still,
Waiting,
It stays still,
For me only, I hear its breathing
it breathes in vaccum,
No winds huffing sound.
I dip my finger in a pond,
Maybe it wants to swim,
But no, there were no bites,
Not bites to dismember my nails from its flesh,
the shiny fishes, away.... away, died long time ago
My hands squeak over windows,
And all over the closed windows of the world,
Its all squeak I hear, but all sealing its screams,
Behind the thick glass, I am,
Through windows I look,
No sunlight for my pupil to absorb,
For there was none...light... sunlight…
I cup my face inside the palms of me,
Of me hands,
Sighing down, befriends of memories,
And dreams that are not yet to come,
I sit on a bench, thinking
That my hands hold no hands,
But my lonely face.