The shortest route
between reconciling conventions and personal proximity
is now safe,
their aged trespassing – a welcomed contrast
so wonderfully rendered in these new shades of whitish pride.
To you, I’m still surrendering my decency, my gratitude, my whole existence,
like i'm in front of a protective, sanctuous veil;
The cruelty of winters gone
is once again swept and forgotten under the rug of patience
together with the wisdom debris of yesterday.
we are no longer hunting histories for vanity sculptures,
Suspended above the fingerprints of gods ;
Out of reach lies a thousand abstract possibilities
some of them hidden or accidentally lost,
others only temporarily imagined by the same chance witnesses
invading one’s mind with the persistence of spring,
the global exaggeration of renewal hopes,
their scented, pink symphonies,
with an insistence
which both intimidates and purifies
until the absurd, contradictory, last-minute clues
are objectively psychoanalized.