Only if I could hear with my eyes ...

Only if I could hear with my eyes… A dream room filled with white semi transparent voices floating in the air. They're not going to leave me like sounds heard by ears do. Whenever time passes by it takes away something from me either very significant or as small as tiny chance to exist. As everything was temporary and it belongs to its own time, I try to freeze, frame, and keep the moment to carry it away as long as possible to the time called future. Somehow deep down I'm not ready to let go the reality, which is gone far far away already.  

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That Narrating sound

            Was laughing … I cried

            Was telling a story about an open window and the longest dawn.

            A story about lost shoes and old sandals.

That Narrating sound

            Was taking about you

            We were there too

That narrating sound

            Was talking about my eyes

            My finished eyes

That narrating sound cried

            Went and got lost

                                                I closed the window