Light Rain (50ml)

Have you ever tried smelling wet fireplace wood?

On the mountain of solitude, a gray cloud tells me that I am in someone's hands.
And he leads me by the hand where existences weep.
Each line of my poems is a step closer to the uncontaminated.
And the world is lost.
With the falling drops I do not mark time, I am only far from life.
And I blend into the dramatic sound of emotions.
It rains on the void and the scream becomes matter, breaks the silence.
The voices oscillate.
Here is the meeting, between the asphalt and his liquid steps drawn and confirming the lonely man,
in the existential metropolises of noise. Weak.
Here is the fear, of a wood that is silent and suspended, amazed by the water that deceives, generator of mold that hinders the fire. Strong.
Here is the dance in the dark, among the clouds of the solo song that wants to embrace an eternal flesh. We are lovers immersed in the drama of the other's salty tears, and now united by the rain that mixes the smells to make one. Intense Rain.
Atmospheres of emotions.