A fire .... at nowhere nearby the road.
Cold nights.
A paraglider leaving lines on the empty grey ground.
Holding the wide horizon with lightness and cold hands.
Shouting eyes won,t stop to look.
Thousands of screaming birds.
Songs like knifes cutting the landscape into pieces putting one onto another one.
Like melting cakes in little, tiny hands.
Growing thunder makes me hiding away from the heat. Icy waterfalls in my mind.
Getting touched by everything.
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