velos

we are like shadows and there is a white cloud over us.
we tell a silent story
(ah, we no longer want to run)
we have been falling for a long time
we still have reached no end.





ps. we are deprived of the right to be happy without guilt. Our personal happiness is pushed inside small shapes: the shape of cups and jewellery, flowers in bottles, pillows, fabric, bags, tapestry, furniture, buttons, food, coffee, the shape of details, a leaf, a shadow on the ceiling, an insect, a cat, a bird, a balcony, a shoe, the shape of the lack (the darkness, the great openness, untouched skies, waterfallings). Forgive me. One cannot allow to be carried away for long.