
We’ll dip in to the moments with the appetite of wolves. We’ll lacerate the herds of time, smeared of blood.


We’ll dip in to the moments with the appetite of wolves. We’ll lacerate the herds of time, smeared of blood.

Onslaught of fear. Brings the winter. You’re fooling around carelessly. Solitude refuge. No cold rests on the sunshine of your mind.
You expect. To to hear the sounds. You learn those that you can. You think that the day will come. The balance of a breath. The source of life.
One moment. It shines. Infrared radiation raises the temperature. You feel. She. Lighthouse magnet. It guides you.
Loitering avidly. You choose the subject. Little details are gained. Time gets longer.
There are. Empty hours. Unaccompanied. They drag out time. Waste of life. Lost sacrifice to the enemy within.
Dived in inertia. Fooling around the traffic. Special loneliness. Covers sounds. Indifferent. A breath. Your pulse.
You nourish breaths. Life images. Your own flag. Untouched dreams. Everyday life is getting rusty.
The greatest joy. To dream with the eyes open.
Your Monologues. Words. Without sound. Heavy though. You feel them. When they unfold the images. Fascination. In your own dimension. Displayed. Prefaces are missing . You don’t ask for subtitles. You know every syllable. They are born in your breath. They fit everywhere. Companions. Waiting for you. To place them in a row. In your own book. Being indifferent themselves .They don’t search for a reader.