All my thinking

I was ask to used silence,
They were sleeping on a wooden square,
my friend was looking with mad attention
and echo came from my right side,
I guess,

I was waiting with out knowing it,
sometimes it happened,
That, what you remember never happened to your particular self,

The rituals of ethnic traditions comes and goes,
Who knows about them?
No body,

and sometimes it happened,
The spring light days does not bring any knowledge to us,
I go out there and performed a kind of dance

Again,
I am guessing,
They are dancing now,
He is looking,
always looking,

I confessed yesterday 

to a guy on the phone ,

yesterday I felt love,
today is just a new day,
twenty four hours later after I felt love,
Now, I will hold an apple,

I remember two black man
I am sorry,

I recalled it
It was not my story
Twice,
Then we run,
He is signing,
She is turning and rolling on the floor,
Big eyes,
Blond,
I think she was the one,

Again,
A dance is being danced where else
He is walking towards us,
We are no moving,
A world is taking shape

I guess then

the guessing is ending.

By the Shortfellow
Manhattan,New York.
December 6, 2011.
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