A river is running deep, moving pieces of owned territories towards left behind faraway lands. I want to know how to unravel the meaning that the entrails of my nap dreams ooze before is too late. From the desperate help call that is done through this screen, cold sister, widowed mirror that is always on call, I have the means to reach to you but I don’t. I glorify the percussive hammer neurons that bring you back to me, only present in my fantasies, but so vivid that makes me to be swollen with joy. It is like if it would be about a Marian apparition that I witnessed and I choose not to talk anybody about. What can I say to a passing by stranger that ignores the floods of life running through my pipes? My veins are not pumping with sense and it saddens me to know that you don’t know. Overflow of sentimentalism for the darkest hour of the day, only because I saw you again in between the foggy mirage of this midday. It is useless to care, so I don’t. For what is left of this serenade my voice is hoarse so is better to recite digitally, in silence, a silence that cannot sit on the chair, which suffers from an untamable adhd, just like me. I keep on trying to touch the sky in solitude, keeping memory cards stuck on the wall as company, with the pictures of faces that will never grow old because they got never close. I am curious to know where is the ride bringing, after all it seems I am not so immune to the car crash as I tend to think I am because my little heart still bumps and has some kind of troubles stemming from uncontrollable crushes. B_Nour
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