Your silence is an elephant gently lying on my chest, clumsily tickling my head with its trunk.
One day when you come to Greece in the summer,
in the best month of the year, when the corn comes out, and the tomatoes, and watermelons too, melons as well, when it goes up to 40, and people are melting, suffocating, in the cities that strangle them, while the cicadae sing the end of time;
I will take you to meet them,
I'm sure you met them before, but every place has its own troubadours.
sitting under the berry tree
there's a hammock
I lie there when it's so hot I'm suffocating, sweating, not able to be.
and they sing, they sing they sing their song that reminds me that time is a lie
and yet I am its prisoner, and they are too, but they sing and their song
is the proof of time's failure
because i might one day die, I will for sure,
and one day I wasn't here
but that day, I existed forever and time was lost
I died voluntarily;
surrendered in the beauty of that which is called nothing
Feelings of pain and love overwhelmed me
And I for an instant became nobody,
I became time