Submerged events; relics of the past
Bent upon to come on the surface
With a pull on the present moments
To go back and forth at the beck and call
Of the unconscious in dreams day and night -
And desires - to mirror on the future
Buoyant with the moving waves
Of the future heading to an unknown shore
Is it possible to delete them?
With a hit of the tip of a finger?
An iceberg waiting to shatter, creatively…
The ship of life scattered on the beach;
Sands try to draw the picture
Of demolition with their tiny grains…
Fingers move on the keyboard
Remapping the dark immensity….